


Coffee Shop Storyteller

by CoffeeShopStoryteller (Samunderthelights)



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Actor Armie Hammer, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Charmie, Coffee Shops, Don't copy to another site, Final chapter is a Christmas update, Fluff, Happy Ending, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Romantic Fluff, YA Fiction, timothée writes fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 60,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23115529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samunderthelights/pseuds/CoffeeShopStoryteller
Summary: Timothée has dropped out of college, and he now spends his days working at his parents' coffee shop, and writing fanfiction about a young actor named Armie Hammer.But when one day a familiar face steps into the coffee shop, fiction and reality begin to blur.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 485
Kudos: 311





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this story is a little different for me. I am used to planning my stories, then writing them, going back, changing everything, then going back again. It usually doesn't take long to write them, but months to actually get them out there, because I am always changing things!  
> But at the moment there is a whole lot of not so fun stuff going on in my life, and I am using my writing to not lose my mind, so I am writing more than ever before! Just a few days ago I found myself writing the first chapter / first day of this story, and although I have no idea where the story is going, I really enjoy writing it, and I hope some of you will enjoy reading it!  
> I can't promise when the next chapter will be up, because it's such a 'let's see wherever the hell it goes' kind of thing. But yeah, enjoy!  
> Xx

**Day 1.**

Only this morning I had been comfortably snuggled up on the couch, my laptop in my lap, some crime show on Netflix playing in the background. I had been trying to write another chapter for my latest story, but there had been this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach. It had made me delete every sentence as soon as I had typed it up. Nothing had sounded right, and I was starting to dislike the entire story.

I had given up, and I had tried to watch Netflix, but I wasn’t even sure what they were talking about. Were they trying to catch a killer, a rapist, a fraud? I had been too wrapped up in my writing. Or rather, in the deleting of my writing.

By the time I had arrived at my parents’ coffee shop for my shift this afternoon, I had still been feeling uncomfortable. Something had felt off, and it had made me feel on edge. Like something was about to happen. But what could be the worst thing that could happen in this place? I could give someone the wrong coffee, maybe burn a bagel?

Most of my shift had gone by, with me still on edge, but the customers not noticing a thing. I had gotten the same tips from the same old customers, and I was just about to shrug off that nervous feeling, when he had stepped into our shop.

Armie fucking Hammer.

Sure enough, I had heard all about the movie they were shooting in town, and the second I had heard that a certain Armie Hammer was in it, my legs had almost given out. Armie Hammer, in our town? Surely this would be the closest I would ever come to meeting him. Just thinking that maybe they would shoot at a place where I have been, where one day I might go, it had driven me up the walls for weeks. I had been ready to spend day and night, trying to find them, just to get a glimpse of them. To get a glimpse of Armie Hammer.

But by the time they had started filming, I had managed to contain my excitement. So I hadn’t gone to find them, and I had stayed at home, only reading about the shoot online. I figured that would be the closest I would get to it, the closest I would let myself go. Just check out the pictures, freak out on the inside, then go back to normal.

Not once had I actually thought about the fact that Armie fucking Hammer was going to be staying in our town. That he was actually going to be walking around, discovering the place for himself. That he was not an actor, contained to the place where they were filming. And not once had I considered that maybe, just maybe, he would come into our shop.

Yet here he is, standing right in front of me, ready to order. But I can feel my legs wobbling, and I don’t think I can take his order. I’m sure that if I were to open my mouth, I would blurt out something stupid. I would tell him ‘ _I’m a huge fan_ ’, or ‘ _I’m a member of your biggest fan group, and they are never going to believe me if I tell them about this_ ’, or maybe even worse, I might ask him for a selfie.

But when he flashes his big grin, those teeth of his even more perfect than they seem in the movies, his eyes bright enough to get lost in, I remember all the things my parents had taught me when I first started working here.

I straighten my shoulders, and I put on my ‘ _I’m trying my best to become employee of the month_ ’ -face.  
Not the ‘ _Timothée Chalamet, doesn’t know what to do with his life, has nothing going for him except for this job, spends most of his days writing fanfiction about the guy who is now actually standing in front of him, and oh my god!_ ’-face.

“Can I take your order?”

“Ehm, sure. What’s the ‘unicorn surprise’?” Armie asks, and are you actually kidding me? Armie fucking Hammer is in our coffee shop, and instead of ordering an espresso, or the hazelnut double-choc macchiato for which we are known, he is asking me about the unicorn surprise? The drink I had made up as a joke, but which had turned into a sparkly, rainbow colored nightmare that little girls, and Instagram-obsessed teenage girls, come to us for?

“It’s not…,” I begin, but I can hear my parents telling me off, because if he wants to know, I have to tell him. “It’s a rainbow colored drink, with sparkles, pink whipped cream…”

“What’s the surprise?”

“It’s a surprise.” I shrug, the grin on his face only growing bigger. “The flavors.”

“Is it any good?”

“If you like sweet drinks that make your eyes water, sure.”

“You’re not exactly selling it to me,” he laughs. “But I’ll have it anyway. And one of those… the green one,” he says, pointing out a green slice of cake. Another one of my jokes. A joke I am now starting to regret.

“Keep the change,” he says, when he hands me the money, before sitting down at one of the tables, and taking his phone out of his pocket.

It would be so easy to sneak my phone out, and to take a picture of him right now. To go online and tell everyone that actual Armie Hammer is sitting in our coffee shop right now. That I have just talked to him, that I am about to make him his coffee. Well, his unicorn surprise.

Armie Hammer, ordering a unicorn surprise. I will definitely be using that in one of my stories.

“I’ve heard all about ‘Chalamet Coffee’,” Armie says, when I bring him his drink, and the green cake, which had seemed so funny to me, but which now seems terrible, when I see it paired up with a sparkly rainbow drink. Is this really what I did with my life? I dropped out of college, and I came up with brightly colored shit that Armie Hammer is about to taste, when he could have tasted my dad’s coffees. Good coffee. The stuff he must have heard about. But no, he had to go and order my fucking unicorn surprise.

“Are you _the_ Chalamet?”

“No, that’s my dad.”

“I figured. You look like you’re too young to own this place,” he says, but when he stares back at the phone in his hands, I turn to leave. “I’m Armie, by the way.”

“I know,” I hear myself saying, and I am already kicking myself. I couldn’t have played it cool, pretend I have no idea who he is? Not only is he about to shit glitter for the next days because of me, but I just had to go and let him know that I know exactly who he is. I can feel the blush creeping up on me, but when I turn to face him again, he just has a friendly smile on his face. A little shy even?

“And you are?”

“Timothée.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Timothée Chalamet.”

Just to hear actual Armie Hammer say my name, it makes my legs wobble, and my heart feels like I have just jumped out of a plane. I don’t even know what to say, what to do. So I just stare at him. I can feel it happening, but I don’t know how to snap out of it, and it isn’t until he chuckles, a knowing, somewhat arrogant smirk on his face, that I realize just how much of a fool I have just made out of myself.

So I turn around, and I quickly get back to work, hoping that he will get up and leave. I didn’t think I would ever even dare to think it, but I want Armie Hammer as far away from me as possible. I want him gone. I want him back on my tv-screen, or my computer-screen. I don’t want him here. I don’t want him to be real. Apparently I, Timothée Chalamet, a twenty-one year old, am not mature enough to handle meeting actual Armie Hammer.

I had laughed when I had seen those teenage girls, who were screaming their lungs out, waiting for Armie to come and meet them. I thought they were being foolish, childish, I had understood their enthusiasm, but I, Timothée Chalamet, would not be like them. I would be cool, I would be able to curb my enthusiasm. I would be able to hold a conversation with him. Because he is just a guy, right? Sure enough, he is one of Hollywood’s hottest actors, but that does not make him any better than the rest of us. He is just a twenty-something year old guy, so we’re no different. I, Timothée Chalamet, would not make a fool out of myself when given the chance to meet this guy.

Yet here we are.

* * *

“You weren’t kidding when you said it’s sweet.”

I look up from my phone, and I find Armie still sitting at the table, but his phone now in his pocket, his eyes focussed on me.

“Not a fan?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s… sweet,” he laughs. “Next time I’ll have whatever you recommend. But maybe something a little less…”

“Sparkly?” I suggest, the grin on his face growing bigger, showing off his teeth, which remind me of vampire fangs. I have to stop looking at those teeth, because if I let my thoughts go there again…

“What was that flavour?” he asks, dragging me out of my thoughts. “The cake, what was it?”

“Berries and white chocolate.”

“So why is it green?”

“We make a different color every day, a different flavor… you never know what you’re getting. The kids love it,” I explain, leaving out the little fact that this was my idea. Rainbow drinks and colored cakes.

“Another surprise? I guess I’ll have to come back every day to see what the flavor of the day is then, huh?”

I am not sure if I am hearing what I think I am hearing, but when he gets up, that grin still on his face, I can’t help but stare at him again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah…”

I watch him leave, but it doesn’t hit me until minutes after he has left, what he has just said to me. Tomorrow? Come back every day? I will have to face actual Armie fucking Hammer every day for the next month?

Even as I close up, I am still freaking out, a mix of excitement and embarrassment rushing through my veins. I can’t wait to see him again, to quietly observe him and take notes for my stories. But how the fuck can I put up with him every day without making even more of a fool out of myself? Surely I will chase him off. I will say the wrong thing, blurt out something inappropriate.

But by the time I get into bed that night, my laptop in my lap, and I go into our fan group’s chat, I have stopped freaking out. Armie was probably trying to be nice, and by tomorrow he will have discovered another place to get a coffee. An actual coffee this time.

The people in the chat are discussing Armie, because what else are they meant to discuss? But they are discussing this new movie, they are guessing as to where they are filming exactly. No pictures had come out today, so until they will get a confirmation, the rumors grow bigger by the minute. Shooting has moved to a secret location. Another actor has joined the cast, and they are trying to hide him. Who can it be? I stare at the screen, at the names flying by. For a moment I consider telling them that I have met Armie today. That I have actually talked to him. That I might see him again tomorrow. But as soon as I start typing the words, I change my mind, because what had happened today, as embarrassing as it was, as happy as my online friends would be for me that I have actually met the guy we have been freaking out over for months, years even, I just can’t tell them. What had happened today, it is mine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your lovely comments on the first chapter! I know, I am not the best at replying to them. But seriously, thank you!!! Xx

**Day 2.**

I didn’t even bother to tell my parents about Armie visiting the coffee shop yesterday. I doubt they would even believe me, because they have heard me mentioning his name so many times, they would probably think I have now officially crossed the line from being a fan into having lost myself into this whole… I don’t even know what to call it. Maybe they’d be right. Maybe I have lost myself in it. Maybe it was all in my head.

I have written so many stories, so many fantasies where Armie fell in love with one of his co-stars, where he would show up in the most unexpected places, that maybe I have now officially lost myself in my own little world of fanfiction.

Only this morning, the conversation in the chat had turned to the shoot of the movie. Of course people know which town they are filming in, so some of them are starting to discuss getting together to travel here to try and spot Armie. To try and get to meet him. No one knows that I actually live here though. I didn’t tell them, because I didn’t want to get harassed with constant messages, asking me if I could go out and find him.  
 _Get an autograph for me, get him to say hello to me, get him to wish me a happy birthday._  
But now my online friends are considering travelling here?

It had freaked me out, so I had spent the rest of the morning trying to work on the chapter I had worked on yesterday. Yesterday I had ended up deleting everything, but today I had managed to write a key scene, and it had helped me take my mind off things. It had dragged me back into my story. It had made me walk around like a zombie, my mind still busy working out the details, so I can write them down another time.

So when I show up at the coffee shop for my shift, and I find Armie sitting at the same table as yesterday, I am so shocked that I drop my phone. I know it sounds stupid, because how the hell can you forget about yesterday? But with all the stories I have living in my mind, with all the details, all the worlds, I genuinely thought I must have gotten yesterday’s reality confused with the fanfiction-bubble I have been living in.

I quickly pick up my phone, hoping that he hasn’t seen me, hoping that I can get away with hiding from him. Because yesterday, although I had thought of it as a fantasy, it is still fresh on my mind, and I definitely still remember blushing, and making him a unicorn surprise. I remember staring at him…

“Timothée!”

Armie Hammer remembers my name? Actual Armie Hammer? I can already feel my insides starting to freak out again, and it takes my parents’ voice, especially my mothers’ voice, to put on my cool, calm and collected ‘ _Can I take your order_ ’, ‘ _Have a nice day_ ’, ‘ _I am definitely not freaking out because Armie fucking Hammer has just said my name_ ’- face.  
“You didn’t think I was going to come?” he grins, probably seeing right through whatever face I am trying to show him. He’s an actor, I’m not. Of course he can see right through my bullshit. He must meet people like me all the time. Still, I keep the smile on my face, hoping and praying that I can just get through today without making a fool of myself again.

“I had to see what today’s flavor was, didn’t I?”

“What was it?”

“I haven’t ordered yet.”

“Why?” I ask, but as soon as the question has left my mouth, I realize how accusatory it sounds, how the smile on my face has turned into a look of confusion. A look of ‘ _why the hell just sit here and not order?_ ’, a look of ‘ _just fuck off already_ ’.

“I was waiting for you. I want to know what drink you recommend.”

“The double-choc hazelnut macchiato. Other shops make it too, but ours is…”

“Have one with me?” he asks, interrupting me in the sales pitch, which I must have repeated at least hundreds of times since my dad put that drink on the menu.

“I’m working.”

“Will five minutes kill you?”

Armie fucking Hammer, asking if I’ll have a coffee with him? This has to be a scene in one of my stories, right? This can not be the real world!

But I check my phone, and I kick myself for having come in early. It gives me enough time to makes us our drinks, sit down with him, I could probably even have a run around the block if I wanted to. Why couldn’t I have come in late? Why have my parents taught me to be early, not leaving me an excuse to not have to join Armie?

“A double-choc hazelnut machhiato then?” I ask, the grin on his face growing bigger. Those goddamn fangs of his showing.

“And the cake, whatever color, whatever flavor… it’s not like those candies, right, sometimes you get broccoli-flavor, or dirt…”

“It’s blue today,” I say, as I check out the cake display. “So it’s probably peach.”

“I thought it was meant to be a surprise,” he says, a confused look on his face. “But every color has its own flavor?”

“No, we change it up all the time. But dad usually makes the blue ones peach-flavored. They’re my favorite ones, so…”

I shrug, not entirely sure why I am telling him this. Why I am giving him any kind of information on myself, on the shop, our cakes. He is just being friendly, and I am rambling on about coffee and cakes.

But when I turn to look at him again, he doesn’t look annoyed, he doesn’t seem to be sick of me just yet. So I catch myself returning the smile on his face, before quickly hurrying off to make us a coffee.

I must have made this drink hundreds of times, but today it is taking me way too long, and my hands are covered in chocolate sauce, hazelnut sprinkles all over the floor. But the drink looks okay. I guess. It beats a unicorn surprise, that’s for sure. So I quickly wash my hands, grab us both a slice of, hopefully, peach cake, before hurrying back to Armie.

He seems to be lost in thoughts though, his eyes glued to his phone, and I consider setting down his coffee and cake and starting work early. Because who am I to interrupt? But who am I to do anything right around Armie Hammer? As I set down the coffee, I nearly knock it over, and it makes him look up. He had looked so focussed, so lost in thoughts, but when he sees me, scrap that, when he sees the coffee, he gets a big smile on his face, his eyes crinkling.

Crinkling eyes. I need to remember that.

I almost walk off, but before I can even take one step, he slides back the chair next to him, and I know I have lost my chance to get out of this. So I join him, and I try to flash a smile.

What am I supposed to say to him though? It’s actual Armie Hammer. Do I ask him about the movie they are shooting in town? Do I tell him I liked his movie which was released last month? Do I ask him how his day is going?

“Have you always worked here?”

His question takes me by surprise, and I must be staring at him like he has just asked me the weirdest thing, because he starts laughing as he picks up his coffee.

“Is that a weird question? You work here, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“So, have you always worked here? Did you grow up here?”

“I grew up here in town.” I nod, my insides only calming down when I pick up the cake, and I smell the sweetness of peaches. “My parents tried to get me to work here, but I took a job at another place. Then I dropped out of college, had nowhere to go… so my parents offered me a job again.”

“You dropped out of college?”

“And now I make rainbow drinks for teenage girls.”

“I’m a teenage girl?” Armie laughs.

“You know what I mean.”

“Sure. You didn’t like college?”

“I did, but things just didn’t work out.”

“You like it here?” he asks, but when I put down my cake, which I haven’t even touched yet, and I look up at him, when I see actual Armie Hammer staring at me, my heart makes a jump. Not just a little jump, but it’s one of those ‘ _oh shit, is this the moment I die?_ ’ jumps. He seems to notice, because he turns his gaze to his coffee, a knowing grin on his face.

“So what is it that you do around here? Other than serving teenage girls unicorn surprises, and yes, I know how that sounds.” He grins, and I can’t help but laugh, for the first time since meeting him, letting go. “So you don’t always have that stick up your ass then?”

“A stick up my ass?”

“You can smile, you know? I won’t bite,” he laughs. “So, what do you do?”

I write fanfiction about you, I spend my days chatting to stranger online about you. I probably know more about you than you know yourself. Basically, I have let myself get obsessed with you, and here you are, sitting in our coffee shop, talking to me. Asking me what the fuck I do all day.

“Not much.” I shrug, trying to keep my words in. Trying not to tell him the truth. Because if he were to find out that I don’t just know who he is, but I spend more time in his world than in mine, he would probably call the cops on me, thinking I am a stalker who has lured him here to trap him inside my web.

“You won’t tell me?”

“I just told you, I…”

“Yeah, and you were lying. Now I want to know what it is that you get up to. Is it something weird?”

Yes.

“Come on, man, now I really need to know. Can you show me?”

“No!” I laugh. “I told you, it’s nothing. I sit at home… I watch some Netflix…”

“And?” He grins, those goddamn fangs of his making my insides stir. “Tell me!”

“I make coffee.”

“And unicorn surprises.”

“And unicorn surprises.”

“I will find out, you know?”

“No, you won’t.”

I catch myself grinning like the Cheshire Cat, as I pick up my cake again. I can feel the excitement inside of me growing, knowing that he wants to find out what I am hiding from him, knowing that he wants to figure me out. For a moment, I wonder how far it will go, how close he will get to guessing what I won’t tell him. But as soon as I bite into the cake, I snap out of my thoughts.

This is Armie Hammer, not some random guy. He does not care what I get up to when I’m not here. He does not want to figure me out. He is not my friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 3.**

A part of me had been excited to see Armie again, I had even caught myself taking much longer than usual to pick out what t-shirt I was going to wear. Like he would care. But I had let myself get dragged in by his charm, by that fanged grin of his, and I had believed him when he had left yesterday, and he had told me he’d be back today.

But it’s been almost an hour since I closed up, and he hadn’t shown up today. No Armie. No more colored cakes. No more making a fool of myself. Which should be a good thing, but as I had locked the door, it truly hitting me that he hadn’t shown, I had felt the tears stinging in my eyes. I had been so disappointed, that I hadn’t been able to go home. My parents would see right through it, and I know that if they were to ask what’s wrong, I would tell them, and I don’t want them to know. I don’t want them to know that I have met Armie, the guy I have talked up to them, the guy I have made out to be some kind of God, but who turns out to be a liar. A dick who makes promises then doesn’t stick to them. A selfish, no good…

I am still cussing Armie out in my mind, when there is a knock on the door. I look up, half expecting my dad to have come looking for me. But Armie is standing there, an apologetic, sheepish grin on his face.

I really want to leave him standing there, because I am angry with him. Angry he lied, angry that he didn’t show up. Angry that he had made me feel so disappointed, when deep down I know that he didn’t actually have to come. He did not owe me anything. But he had made me feel that way, and I want to leave him out there, make him feel how it feels. But I know he wouldn’t care. He would simply go to another coffee shop and never come back here. He would probably think I’m a dick for ignoring him, and as much as I try to tell myself that I don’t care anymore, the truth is that I want him to like me. Besides, who can leave Armie Hammer standing outside? It’s Armie fucking Hammer.

So I get up, and I let him in. But before I can tell him that we’re closed, he sits down at his usual table.

“They wouldn’t let us go until now. I’m so sorry, man!”

“Whatever.”

I try to shrug it off, but even I can tell that that was a really lame attempt at trying to play it cool. And when he brings his hands together, a pout on his face, his eyes full of mischief, we both know that he has already dragged me back in.

“Forgive me?”

“You know that we’re closed, right?”

“So no coffee for me?” he asks, before glancing over to the cake display, a disappointed look on his face. “What was today’s flavor?”

“I kept a slice back for you,” I blurt out. So much for playing it cool. “I mean, if you don’t want it, it’s…”

“It’s what I came here for!”

Of course he came here for the cake. Not for me.

I go to get him the cake and a bottle of lemonade, the petty hurting in the pit of my stomach making me unwilling to make him coffee now. Not when I have just cleaned up the place.

But when I set it down for him on the table, he slides out the chair next to him.

“Share it with me?”

“No, thanks.”

“Not a fan of today’s flavor?” he asks, but when I shrug, not willing to play along, he sighs. “Not a fan of people who show up after you’ve closed up, and they make you stay here late?”

“Something like that.”

“Want me to leave?”

I shrug again, the knowing smile on his face growing.

“Come on, man. Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?” I ask, but I know exactly what it is that I am doing. I am acting like a petty child who didn’t get what they want, and now they are ready to throw a fit. They are trying their best to keep it in, but if one more thing gets said, it will come out.

“I preferred it when you liked me,” he admits.

“I didn’t like you.”

“Yeah, you did,” he laughs, but my arms are crossed, my leg ready to start stomping on the ground. “I saw the way…”

I can hear that he is only teasing me, trying to get me to come out of my bad mood, but his words set me off, and as much as I want to keep myself from doing this, I can’t stop it, and before I know it, the words have already come out of my mouth.

“Fuck you! Just because you’re Armie fucking Hammer, does not mean that everyone loves you, okay? What, you think I’ll sit here and wait around until you finally decide to show up?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, the color slowly draining from his face. “I thought… I was only messing, yeah? I didn’t know what time you were closing, so I thought I’d stop by and see if you were still open, and when I saw you were still in… I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t actually mean that,” I quickly say. “I don’t think you’re… you know… I’m actually a fan. A big fan.”

Fuck it, after saying what I have just said to him, I might as well tell him I’m a fan. Maybe it’ll make him forgive me for calling him an arrogant bastard.

“I figured.” He nods, a small, uncertain smile forming on his face.

“You did?”

“It’s the staring… the blushing… it’s usually a giveaway.”

The smile on his face grows bigger, and I can feel another blush creeping up on me. But this time I don’t mind. Let him see it. I think I’m done pretending.

“What made you come back, if you knew I was a fan? Shouldn’t you find a place where people don’t know you?”

“I wanted to know what the flavor of the day was.” He shrugs, but there is something playful in his smile, and even I can tell that it is a blatant lie.

“I’m sorry, for…”

He gives a nod, before nudging his head into the direction of the black lemon-flavored cake.

“Share it with me?”

This time I accept the offer, and I take the seat next to him. I still feel more than just a little ashamed of the way I had just spoken to him, but to be honest, it has, as Armie would put, well and truly made me take the stick out of my ass. Maybe I just needed to erupt before I could let go around him. Or maybe I just need to tell myself that in order to be able to forgive myself for actually talking to him like that. Because really, I am finally getting the chance to spend time with actual Armie Hammer, and I decide to talk to him like that? Really?

“You want to know why I came to this coffee shop?” he asks, making me snap out of my thoughts.

“I’m sure it’s not the unicorn surprise.”

“No,” he laughs. “It’s definitely not the unicorn surprise!”

“I told you, my dad’s coffee…”

“It’s not your dad’s coffee either,” he interrupts, and I wonder what else we have that the other shops in this town don’t have. Colored cakes. But I doubt someone like him would come to us just for some food coloring.

“Then what?”

“I wanted to get to know you,” he admits, but I’m still struggling to put the picture together. Struggling to comprehend what it is that he is trying to tell me. “I saw you smoking a cigarette outside, and I was about to come over to talk to you, but you went into the shop, so…”

He saw me? When was this? Why was he going to talk to me? Did he recognize me? Does he know about our fan group? Is that how he knew that I was a fan?

“I figured the best way to get to know you was to come in and see…”

“Wait, what?” I interrupt, only now realizing that there is no grin on his face, nothing playful, no mischief. He seems a little nervous, and genuine. This doesn’t seem to be a joke. But what do I know? I don’t even know this guy, do I?

“I promise I’m not trying to stalk you.”

Trust me, if anyone’s a stalker here, it’s me. But that’s a conversation for another day.

“I just wanted to get to know you.” He shrugs, before turning his attention to making sure to slice the cake in even halves.

“Me?”

“Yes, Timothée, you,” he laughs, his eyes still glued to the cake. “Is that so weird?”

“Do you do this with all your fans?”

“No!”

He stares up at me, a look of confusion on his face. He looks almost offended, but I still don’t get it.

“I didn’t know you were a fan, did I?” he laughs. “It should’ve put me off, but…”

“Put you off? What are…”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Say what?”

“Jesus!” he laughs, shaking his head. “I thought you were hot, so I came in because I wanted to get to know you. There. Better?”

Hot? No, definitely not comprehending what is going on here. Have I missed something? Hidden cameras, the clue to the joke?

“Did someone put you up to this? Did my parents put you up to this?” I ask, but he just laughs. “I mean it, Armie, if they…”

“Your parents would ask me to say you're hot?”

“I don’t know!”

“Look, man, I’ve put it out there, now do with it what you want,” he says, before handing me half of the cake. He starts eating his half, but how am I meant to eat right now, when my brain feels like it is about to explode. I have no idea what is happening. Have I been asleep for the last three days, is any of this even real?

* * *

I had tried so hard to not choke on the cake, to act like what Armie had told me hadn’t gotten to me. But I had concentrated so hard on every bite, that I had forgotten how to eat, and I had ended up having a coughing fit, and Armie had tried his best to get me out of it. But I had been too embarrassed after I had spat out my cake, and I had quickly managed to get him to leave, coming up with some excuse about having to go home, or my parents would think I was in trouble. Yes, I could have sent them a text. Yes, I could have acted my age and try to laugh off what had just happened. But I just couldn’t face him anymore.

So I had got him to leave, before rushing back home, where I had faked a smile.

How had my day been? Fine, boring. Nothing happened. You know, same old, same old. It was not like actual Armie Hammer had come into the shop and he had called me hot. Like that would ever happen!

My parents had bought my fake smile, and they had let me go up to my room after dinner. I know that if I were to go into our group chat right now, I would only freak out more. So I open my fanfiction account, and I check the most recent story I posted. It was a short story, and I had been really proud of it. I felt like my writing was finally improving, and it was really showing in this story. The Armie I had written had felt so real, the story coming alive with every word. I was more than excited to post it, and I couldn’t wait to see the reactions. But it’s been days, and when I check it again, there are a handful of reads, no comments. Not even a single like.

I feel crushed. I don’t write for the praise, but I had been so proud of this story, that it feels like someone has just kicked me in the gut. After a bad experience in the fandom, I had spent months keeping my stories to myself, I had been too nervous to put them out there again. It didn’t stop me from writing though, and it won’t stop me this time either.

So I open the story I’ve been working on, but as soon as I try to type up the ideas I have going on in my head, the image of Armie walking into our shop starts flashing before my eyes. Armie ordering that goddamn unicorn surprise. Armie smiling at me. Armie calling me hot.

I try hard to write about the Armie in my story, about the girl he falls in love with, but I can tell that fictional and real-life Armie are starting to become mixed up in my head. That this girl is slowly but surely turning into some kind of messed up version of myself. And although I’m sure that no one will know, I know.

Writing, it had become my go-to these last years. When I had a stressful day, I would write. Realizing that I had well and truly fucked up my life, and I am not actually heading somewhere? Feeling stuck in this town, making coffee, serving cake… none of it seemed to matter once I’d get my laptop out. Focusing on writing, on fictional Armie Hammer, it had helped me more than I want to admit. But now real-life Armie has taken that away from me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 4.**

Last night I had been ready to delete my entire fanfiction account, and all my stories with it, but when I had woken up this morning, I decided to not let Armie ruin this for me. Or rather, I will not let myself ruin this. So I had come into work early, and I had sat down at a table to give myself some time to focus on this story I am still trying to write. I figured the shop, the customers might give me some new inspiration, and sure enough, after writing for almost an hour, I had finally finished another chapter.

It had put me in a better mood, so when Armie walks in, only minutes before we’re about to close up, meaning that I’ll be staying late again today, I flash him a big smile, ready to take his order. He seems a little distracted though, not at all like the playful ‘ _I’ll say whatever I want, because I am Armie fucking Hammer. Do with it what you want_ ’-guy I have seen these last days. But what do I know?

“Can I borrow your phone?”

My phone? The one with the wallpaper of fan art of his latest movie on it? That phone?

“Ehm… I left it at home. Why?”

“Do you have a laptop I can use? I forgot my phone, and I really need to answer this e-mail. It’s important.”

No. Of course you can’t borrow my laptop. I use it to write fanfiction about you. I have written smut about you, using that laptop.

“Sure.”

Really?

I grab my laptop out of my backpack, and I hand it over to him, hoping and praying that he’ll only use it to check his e-mail, that he will not go through my history. But he is already sitting down at a table, so it’s too late to take it back now, isn’t it?

So I make him a double-choc hazelnut macchiato, grab him today’s pistachio cake, and go over to his table to give it to him. But when I see the Cheshire Cat grin on his face, it’s like my world starts moving in slow-motion. I remember how I had checked my fanfiction account before work. How I had closed my laptop, and shoved it into my backpack. How I had not actually closed the tab, or logged out.

“Wow,” Armie laughs, and all I want is for the earth to open up and swallow me whole. “So you’re a writer, huh?”

“No.”

“This isn’t what you do then? What you weren’t willing to tell me?” he laughs. “You’re not ‘CoffeeShopStoryteller’?”

“No.”

“That’s a shame, he’s a good writer.”

“What? You’ve actually read some of that stuff?” I hear myself asking, my voice all squeaky, not making my denials any more convincing. “Give it back to me.”

“I get the ‘Armie slash Finn’, ‘Armie slash Danielle’, and so on, but what does this one mean? ‘Armie slash reader’? Who is ‘reader’?”

“Oh god.”

“Who is it? Should I know him?” he laughs, his eyes turning back to the screen. “Look, it says here…”

“I know what it says!”

“So you did write these?”

“I promise I’m not…”

“Writing fictional stories about my life?” he asks, but there is something in his grin that tells me he isn’t freaking out. Not at all. Nor is he mocking me. He is teasing me, probably used to this kind of thing. It should help me relax, but my hands are shaking so badly, that I am spilling coffee everywhere.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re a writer?”

“Why didn’t I…? Are you seriously asking me that? I write stories about you, Armie. I’m not Stephen King, or… I don’t know, Oscar Wilde. I write about you.”

“These stories are good!”

“No, they are not. Now give it back!” I spit out, unable to deal with this any longer. I slam down the coffee and the cake on the table, and I grab my laptop, not even caring about the fact that I am getting coffee all over it, that I might even break it, with the way I’m handling it. Anything to get it away from Armie.

But when I have stuffed it back into my backpack, and I look back up, I find Armie staring at me, a look of mischief on his face that tells me that this isn’t over yet. He is not going to let this go.

And this, people, this is the last you’ll hear of Timothée Chalamet. Because how the hell am I meant to go on, knowing that actual Armie Hammer has discovered my fanfiction? That he has read some of it? That he, possibly, has read the smut I have written about him?

I can change my name, scrape together what money I have saved up, start a new life somewhere. A life without Armie in it. The fictional one or the real one. I will stop writing, I will leave the fan group. Soon enough it’ll be like none of this has ever happened, right?

But real-life Armie Hammer is still watching me. He has not freaked out or run away. So what right do I have? Maybe it’s time for me to grow up and stop running away.

* * *

“So who is this ‘reader’?” Armie asks, after I have closed up. He is still sitting at the table, and it doesn’t look like he’ll be going anywhere soon. “I’ve been thinking about it, and does it mean that you’re pairing me up with whoever is reading the story?”

“I guess…”

“How does that work?”

“You really want me to explain how the world of fanfiction works?” I laugh, but he just shrugs. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Is this good for your ego or something? You like the fact that people out there spend day and night writing about you?” I blurt out, and weren’t we here just last night?

“You think this about my ego?” he laughs, and thank god I didn’t offend him. Or maybe I did, and he is just getting better at hiding it. “I want to learn more about your work.”

“My work? It’s fanfiction, Armie. It’s not… work. It’s just…”

“So, tell me more about it.”

“No!”

“Fine, then don’t,” he laughs. “I’ll have to figure it out myself then, won’t I?”

What does that mean? Is he going to read fanfiction now? Is he going to ask someone else about it?

“I told you, man, I want to get to know you, and if this is what you do, then…”

“If I write stories about you?” I ask. “Don’t you get how weird it is to discuss this with you?”

“Why?”

“Why?”

Oh god, he can’t be that stupid. Please don’t let him be an absolute idiot.

“It’s fiction, right? It’s not real.” He shrugs, and yes, he really is that stupid. Clueless, that is the word. He is living in his own little world, where he plays the starring role, and it’s actually normal for him that people would be writing stories about him. Of course it is.

“It’s not actually me.”

“But it is. I write about you. I get that it’s fiction, but I write about you, Armie. You! Not some made up character, you!”

Do you know when you say a word so many times, it starts to sound wrong? I am hoping and praying that I won’t have to explain it to him again, because if I have to use the word ‘you’ one more time, it will start messing with my head.

“I get that.”

“I don’t think you do. Because you’re still sitting here, and you don’t think I’m this…”

“What? Do you want me to start freaking out? I don’t care, Timothée. It probably should scare me off, but I told you, man, I like you.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“You think there’s something wrong with me because I like you?” he laughs, as he gets up. But when I realize that he is planning to come over to where I’m standing, I can feel the panic inside of me growing. Maybe I have offended him, and he is about to punish me for it. Armie, punishing me… oh god, don’t even go there!

“Because I…,” I begin, but when he slowly but surely makes his way over to me, the grin on his face growing bigger, something in his eyes feeling almost dangerous. Like if I want to get out of this, I need to run now. But I don’t run.

“Because you like me too?” he asks, when he is standing in front of me. “Because you liked me before we had even met?”

I nod, not sure if I am capable of speaking right now. My heart is beating so fast, that it feels like I might be about to pass out. Armie seems to know, but there is an almost arrogant look on his face, one of ‘ _I know exactly what I am doing to you, and I love it. This is what I do. This is what I live for_ ’.

He brings his hand up to the side of my neck, and when I feel his hand touching my skin, my legs grow wobbly. He brings his face closer to mine, and for a split-second I think he is going to kiss me. But his grin grows ever bigger, before he brings his mouth to my ear.

“I want to kiss you, Timothée Chalamet,” he purrs, my legs now seriously close to giving out. Because what the actual fuck?

“Kiss me?” I manage to bring out, because again, what the actual fuck?

He stares at me for the longest time, or let’s be real, probably just a second, before pressing his lips against mine. I feel like I have forgotten how to do this though, because I feel like cooked spaghetti, I feel like one of those wobbly figures outside a car shop. I feel like Armie fucking Hammer is kissing me, not fictional Armie Hammer in one of my stories, but real-life Armie is kissing me in the real world. How am I meant to wrap my head around that?

I somehow manage to kiss him back though, and although I have written about this dozens of times, this kiss is nothing like I thought it would be. I had always imagined Armie to be domineering, in the best way, I thought he would be taking control. His kisses would be a little rough, they would be hungry, always ready for the next step.

But his kiss is sweet, gentle, it’s almost careful, as though he’s scared to hurt me, to break me. His kindness only makes me love him more, and… did I just say I love him? I take that back. It is way too soon for that. This is only our first kiss. The first kiss between me and Armie Hammer. Yeah… I have now officially lost it, haven’t I?

When I open my eyes, I’m sure that I must be finding an empty shop. No Armie. But I look up, straight into his eyes, and it is starting to hit me that that kiss actually happened. I have just kissed Armie Hammer. No, scrap that. Armie Hammer just kissed me.

“Did it live up to your fantasies?” He smirks, finally taking his hand off my neck. “Or is the guy you write about a better kisser?”

“Fuck you!”

“Is he?” he laughs, and I find myself giving him a playful shove. He wraps his arms around me though, and he brings his mouth to my neck. Just feeling his mouth on my skin, it is making me feel things I should not, can not, be feeling right now, so I free myself from his grip, and I step away from him.

“I have to go home,” I quickly say, trying not to think about what has just happened. But how can I not?

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“You don’t have to come in every day.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asks. “After that kiss? Really?”

“I’m not… I mean, you can come in, but… you know…”

“No more kissing?”

“No! I mean, yes! No.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get that,” he chuckles. “But if you want me to back off…”

“No!”

Definitely not playing it cool.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Timothée.”

“Yeah…”


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 5**

“I met someone.”

“Oh, yes?”

As soon as my mom looks up from her breakfast, I already regret telling her. Because I know that look. The whole ‘ _What’s his name? Can we meet him? I am definitely already planning your wedding_ ’ –look.

“What’s his name?” dad asks, but he doesn’t even fake some kind of enthusiasm. I suppose it makes up for the look on mom’s face.

“Armie.”

“Armie?” mom laughs. “As in… what a funny coincidence!”

“No, mom. I met Armie. Armie Hammer.”

“Really? He came into the shop?”

No, mom, like some kind of stalker, I walked around town until I finally found him.  
Well, to be fair, that is exactly what I had been planning on doing when I first found out he was going to shoot a movie in town. But I didn’t.

“He did.”

“Is he nice? Did you get a picture taken with him?” mom asks. “What did he order? Did you tell him to get your father’s macchiato?”

“Ehm…no, not exactly…”

“What happened?” dad asks, “He wasn’t like those other Hollywood bastards, was he? Thinking he’s too good to talk to his fans.”

“Well…”

“Did you get a picture, at least?” mom asks, a hopeful look on her face. But no, I did not get a selfie with Armie. I got a kiss instead. But I can’t tell my parents that, can I? I’m not even sure why I brought up meeting him now. Because what am I meant to tell them? You know that actor that I’ve been going on and on about? He came into our shop, and not only does it turn out that he only came in because he wanted to get to know me, he also found the stories I wrote about him. It didn’t freak him out though. In fact, it made him kiss me. That’s right, mom and dad, I kissed Armie Hammer yesterday.

“I didn’t ask him for one,” I tell them. “But he was really nice. He’s been in a few times, actually.”

“Really? Oh, wow!”

“Yeah…”

“And you’re not jumping up and down?” mom laughs. “I thought this way the guy you were obsessing over with your online friends?”

“Not obsessing!”

Yes obsessing. Definitely obsessing. Not in a weird way though.

Okay, maybe in a weird way. I might have made some comments about his looks. Just a few though.

Okay, fine, when I am chatting to the others from the group, I tend to let myself go, and sometimes I say something that I only dare say online. Something that I would never, in a million years, dare to say in the real world.

But my online world, my world of fanfiction, and real-life have become a little bit mixed up, haven’t they? Because Armie fucking Hammer kissed me yesterday!

“Make sure to ask him for a picture next time he comes in!”

“I will.”

“What did your friends say when you told them?”

“I haven’t told them,” I admit, and both my parents look at me like I’ve just told them that I like to eat live worms. Or, you know, like I’ve just kissed the actor I like.

“Why not?”

“Because they don’t know I live here. I don’t want them to ask me to get them autographs, or… you know… I didn’t want them to get jealous that I might meet him.”

“If they’re real friends, they won’t be jealous. They’ll be happy for you.”

“Yeah… some of them are planning to travel here, to try and get to meet him.”

“Are you going to meet up with them?”

“I don’t know.”

I try to shrug it off, but their question actually makes the anxiety inside of me bubble up to the service. Because if they really come out here, and they find out I have lied to them, how will they react? And what if they find out I have already met Armie? What if they were to find out what has happened between me and him?

Since college, I have struggled to make real-life friends, and I know that some people don’t think online friends are real friends, but they are all I have. I talk to them all the time, and to me they are real friends. So the thought of losing them over this, of losing them over the guy we all like… am I meant to choose? Choose Armie or my friends? What kind of choice is that?

* * *

I have been repeating the conversation over and over in my head, but what am I meant to say to Armie when I see him today? Do I bring up what had happened yesterday, do I pretend it didn’t happen? Try to play it cool again?

Every version of the conversation ends the same though. Armie, me, the shop’s storeroom… I have written too many stories to see it ending any other way. Those were stories though, and this is the real world. But after what had happened, who knows what’s real and what is fiction anymore?

If you had told me a week ago, or even a day ago, that I would be kissing actual Armie Hammer, I would have laughed at you. I probably would have cracked a rib laughing. Because what the hell?

So I am still trying to figure out what I am going to say to Armie when I see him today, when I walk into the coffee shop. But when I see Harley standing behind the counter, a group of their friends gathered around them, the conversation in my head with Armie fades into the background. I go over to the counter, ready to take over from Harley, but they are too caught up in their story to even notice me.

“He looks so much better than in the movies, I swear!”

“I can’t believe you got to meet him!” one of Harley’s friends says, her phone in her hands, and she seems to be typing away. I really hope she is texting her parents, a friend, maybe she’s playing a game? But we all know what is happening here, don’t we?

“Did you get his picture?”

“Of course! I didn’t want to ask for a selfie,” Harley says, whipping out their phone. “I need this job, you know? But I took one when he wasn’t looking.”

“He is so hot! Do you think he’ll be back?”

I almost open my mouth and tell Harley’s friends to fuck off. Armie is mine, and I will not let these obsessed fans ruin this for me! But as I catch myself thinking this, I realize exactly how it sounds. So I keep my mouth shut, hoping that Harley and their friends will be gone by the time Armie gets here, and they will not come back here every day from now on, trying to catch a glimpse of him. Or worse, they will write about this online, and it will bring not just Harley’s friends, but everyone from the fan group who were already planning on travelling here, to our shop. Don’t get me wrong, it’d be great for business, but I do not want to have to share Armie with everyone else. Yes, I know how that sounds, but like I said, I am done pretending.

“You’ll call us next time he’s here, right?”

“Of course! But last time he was just sitting there, he didn’t even order anything. I was hoping one of his co-stars would show up or something. But he was just sitting there.” Harley shrugs, and I realize they must have seen Armie when he was here waiting for me to recommend him a drink. I almost wish he would have just ordered something, but then what would have happened if he had met Harley? Would he have started showing up to see them? Would he have kissed them?

* * *

I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve been checking our fan group all day, to see if they have figured out about Armie visiting the shop yet. Harley’s picture has gotten out, but no word about where it was taken yet. Thank god for that. But it feels like it’s only a matter of time before they figure it out, because once this group gets their hands on a picture of Armie, and they want to find out more about it, they won’t stop until they have what they want. I wouldn’t put them past travelling here, and visiting every coffee shop, picture in hand, just to see if it matches up.

To be fair, I have helped in some of the ‘research’ in the past too. But this time I’m just really hoping that just for once, they will let it go.

“Reading anything interesting?”

When I hear his voice, my heart makes another one of those goddamned jumps that one day _will_ put me in hospital. I look up, and for fuck sake, can he just stop showing off those fangs already?

“So?”

“Huh?”

“Reading anything interesting?” he repeats. “You’ve been staring at your phone for minutes, just…”

“Minutes? How long have you been here?”

“Minutes,” he laughs, and only now does it hit me again what had happened yesterday. I had been so caught up worrying about Harley, their friends, my online friends, that somehow yesterday had faded into the back of my mind. But right now that kiss is definitely back in my mind, and I can feel myself starting to blush again. Because what am I supposed to say? I hadn’t actually come up with anything good to say, because somehow I had let my mind drift off every time to… no, not going there right now. Not with Armie standing right in front of me.

“I can’t stay, unfortunately. We only have a short break before we start filming again.”

“Right…”

“But I was wondering… how about we hang out some time?”

Hanging out? With Armie Hammer?

“What, like a…”

Do. Not. Say. It.

“Like a date?” I hear myself blurt out, his fanged grin growing the biggest I have seen it so far. “I didn’t mean… it was a joke. You know, like…”

“Like a date.” He nods, that goddamned grin still on his face, and it is making me want to go home, crawl into bed and never come out. Because really, Timothée? He probably wanted to ask you to show him around town, and you had to turn it into this? He is probably just agreeing that that was what he had meant in the first place to let you safe face, but let’s be real, Armie Hammer, asking you out on a date? That is never going to happen.

“So?” he asks, probably noticing that I am not planning on actually answering him. That right now, I am just staring at him. Again.

“Sure…”

“Awesome! Can you give me your number, so we can…”  
“My number?”

“Yes. Your phone number?”

Yes, Armie, I know you meant my phone number! But what the actual fuck? Armie Hammer, asking for my number? Can someone please get out these hidden cameras, because it has gone far enough, don’t you think?

Still, I find myself writing down my number for him, but when I hand him the piece of paper, he takes the pen from my other hand, and writes down his own number, before ripping the paper in two.

Did he just give me his number?

“What if I give this to someone else?”

“Are you planning to give it to someone else?” he chuckles.

I wonder what my friends would have done, had they been given Armie’s number. Would they have kept it to themselves, or would they have shared it with the rest of us? Is it selfish of me to want to keep all of this to myself? Do I owe it to them to share this with them?

“No, but how do you know that I won’t?”

He just shrugs, before checking out the cake display.

“Pink? What’s that? Apple? Chocolate?” he guesses, but as soon as I open the display, the sweet smell of strawberries pours out.

“Is that…”

Another one of my little jokes. Make the flavors match the colors sometimes, just to mess with people. But let’s not tell Armie that.

“It’s not as good as the peach, but it’s better than the chocolate. I keep telling my dad it’s too sweet, but…,” I hear myself rambling, but when again, it hits me that the man staring at me had kissed me last night, all of the sudden I am unable to form any kind of sentence.

“I really have to get back,” he says, when he hands me enough money to buy him cakes for the rest of the month. “Thanks for the ehm…”

“Strawberry.”

“Yeah, but I meant… I’ll text you, yeah?” he says, but something feels off. The smile on his face doesn’t seem genuine, and I can’t tell if he is as nervous around me as I am around him. But why would he be nervous around me? I’m Timothée Chalamet, not Armie fucking Hammer. Is he just trying to back out of this, by promising to text, then I will never hear from him, nor will I ever see him again? I wouldn’t be surprised.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little inbetween chapter, and I am trying my best to get this story back on track, so please bear with me. I'm trying! =/

**Day 6**

I have been avoiding checking out the fan group’s chat, because yesterday afternoon, people had started booking train tickets to come out here. It had stopped being something fun to talk about, and it had become an actual trip. I still don’t know how I am going to handle this one, because do I ask my parents for a few days off, do I pretend I have travelled here to meet Armie too? Do I meet up with them and lie to them? Or do I now come clean and tell them I live here? But then, how much do I tell them?

I just don’t know what to do, so the easiest thing is to put it off and tell myself I’ll decide tomorrow. Or next week. Or the day before they get here.

I know, I said it was time to stop running away, but this isn’t running away, technically. I’m only putting it off, giving myself more time to make the right decision. Right? That’s not running away.

I check my fanfiction account, not expecting to see any new comments, because let’s be real, it’s not like I get a dozen comments every day. But when I see the little notification bubble, it only takes me a split-second to click on it, hoping it’s not just another notification telling me I’ve been a member for however many months.

_Anonymous : I loved some of your other work, but this is your best work so far, Timmy! One note though; I don’t, for one second, believe Armie would be drinking a double espresso. I think he would go for something a bit more sweet. Something a bit more sparkly? ;-)_

What?

What the actual fuck?

Who else knows about Armie ordering a unicorn surprise? I haven’t told anyone, have I? Was someone else in the shop, watching Armie? Were they taking notes too? Have I been so busy worrying about my online friends finding out, that I have completely forgotten about the fans that live in town?

I reread the comment, but this time it’s not the comment about the drink that makes me feel caught out. That makes me feel like one of my secrets has been put out in the open. This time I notice that whoever left this comment, they called me ‘Timmy’. I am ‘CoffeeShopStoryteller’, not Timothée, not Timmy. No one knows that this is me. No one except for Armie.

* * *

I have read Armie’s comment over and over again, somehow trying to find a hidden message in it, but let’s be real, he’s not the kind of guy to hide hidden messages, is he? With his whole ‘ _I have put it out there, do with it what you want_ ’. Still I can’t stop staring at my phone, and I only look up when my mom comes into my room, a worried look on her face.

“Are you okay?”

I’m fine, mom, why wouldn’t I be? The guy I’m a fan of, he started showing up at the shop every day. Not only that, but he called me hot, he kissed me, and I’m pretty sure he’s been reading the stories I’ve written about him. And we all know what kind of things I’ve written about him, don’t we? So yes, mom, of course I’m okay. Everything is just fucking okay!

“No.”

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” she asks, already coming over to my bed so she can feel my face for my temperature. “You look a little peaky.”

Maybe because I have no idea what the fuck is happening? Because it feels like I am losing my mind, and I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t? Because I have just gotten a text from Armie fucking Hammer, asking me if I know a nice restaurant?

I have left it unopened though, but that’s not running away either. I just need some time to figure out what to do. Right?

“I think I should stay home today, I’m really not feeling great.”

Not running away. Not at all.

“Sure. I’ll call Harley and see if they can take over your shift.”

Harley? As in, Armie might come in, looking for me, and they will find Harley instead? Harley, who had secretly taken his picture, then sent it to their friends? That Harley? The one who will probably jump him the moment he smiles at them?

“Don’t call them yet. I’ll give it another hour. Maybe I’ll feel better,” I lie, because I already know that I’d rather face Armie right now, than risk Harley jumping him and scaring him off. Or worse, Armie deciding Harley is the one he wants to hang out with.


	7. Chapter 7

**Day 7**

I had dragged myself to the shop yesterday, ready to face Armie, to ask him why he has been reading the stories I have written about him. Why did he kiss me? What does he think he’s doing?

But the son of a bitch never showed.

Typical.

Just as I’ve gotten my act together, Armie stops showing up. To be fair, the second he would have walked in, I probably would have lost all sense again, and everything I had been planning to say to him would have flown right out of the window. And maybe the fact that I haven’t sent him a text back, answering his question about the restaurant doesn’t help either. Because what if maybe, just maybe, he was trying to ask me out on a date. What if he thinks I have just rejected him?

I’m trying my best not to think about it too much, but let’s be real, who wouldn’t be freaking out when they possibly just rejected Armie Hammer? But I haven’t, have I? I haven’t actually told him no. I have only ignored him. Which is different. I hope.

I had shown up early today, making sure to get Harley out of the shop as quickly as possible, just in case Armie decided to show up again. But so far he’s a no show. It almost makes me get my phone out and send him a text, but I can’t. It’s been too long now, hasn’t it? What would I say? ‘ _That was a great kiss, and I love that you’re reading my stories! It doesn’t make this any weirder. So yeah, let’s hang out._ ’

To be fair, he only asked me if I knew any good restaurants, so for all I knew he is only looking for recommendations, and he didn’t actually ask me to hang out again. But right now, I don’t know anything. I’m not even sure about today’s cake. I could have sworn that it was blueberry, but we had blueberry yesterday, so what are the chances? I swear, it could be cinnamon, for all I know. With the way my mind has been messing with me lately, I doubt I’d be able to tell the difference anymore.

Remind me that next time I see Armie, I will ask him exactly what this is. It will give me some peace of mind, and maybe I’ll be able to stop overthinking this. Maybe then I’ll also be able to get some writing done again. Because right now I can’t write. My brain keeps confusing real-life Armie and fictional Armie, and I need to get this cleared up, once and for all. For my own sanity.

But when Armie walks into the shop, I feel a fluttering in the pit of my stomach, and all I can think about is when he had kissed me.

What was that about asking him something?

“I’ve had to sneak out to come see you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m supposed to be on set right now,” he explains, the corner of his lip curling up into a smile. “But when I didn’t hear from you…”

“Huh?”

“I sent you a text.”

Text? What text?

Right, restaurant, date. Going on a date with Armie Hammer. Actual Armie Hammer. Who is standing right in front of me. Who has kissed me. If only he were to kiss me right now. I would let him take me into the storeroom, and we would… No. Not now.

“I’m sorry, my phone has been acting weird,” I lie, but he doesn’t even pretend to believe it, so I add a quick apology.

“If you don’t want to hang out, that’s fine. Or if a restaurant is a bit much, we could go to a bar, or…”

“A bar?”

“You’re old enough to drink, aren’t you?” he asks, but when I don’t answer, the smile leaves his face, and he chuckles nervously. “Are you?”

“You kissed me, but you weren’t even sure about my age? What if I’m sixteen?”

“Are you?”

“No! I went to college, I told you that!”

“You could have lied,” he laughs. “So you’re…”

“Old enough to drink.”

Really, _old enough to drink_? That doesn’t make you sound like you’re sixteen at all.

“I figured. Some of the things I read in your stories…”

“Please don’t.”

“What?” Armie laughs, but he is unable to hide the mischief in his eyes, that give away that he is teasing me, trying to win me over. “The way you described…”

“Don’t!”

“That thing with your thumb, is that actually physically possible?”

Someone kill me now. Please. When I wrote that scene, based on something I had read about somewhere… fine, based on something I had seen online, I never once thought Armie was going to read it. Remember how just days ago I was embarrassed because he had caught me staring at him? I take my embarrassment back, because that was nothing compared to what I am feeling right now.

Still, Armie doesn’t seem to be freaked out. He just seems curious. Excited even.

“So, how about we go out for drinks then? No pressure, just…”

“Just drinks.”

“Just drinks,” he agrees, before checking out the cake display. “Black, so… lemon?”

“No, it’s… I don’t know what it is, actually.”

I go to get him a slice, and I’m about to ask him how the shoot has been going so far. Not asking as a fan, but as a… I don’t even know. Maybe I would be asking as a fan, because that’s what I am, right? I’m still just a fan, who just so happened to have kissed the guy who he’s a fan of. Nothing weird about that.

But when I am about to ask him, he gets out his phone, so I keep quiet, and I do my work. I hand him his cake, I take his money. But as I take it, I remember what had happened the other day, so I hand it back to him, and it makes him look up from his phone.

“You already paid, the other day.”

“And now I’m paying again, or do you only let your customers pay once? I don’t know much about business, but I don’t think that’s how it works,” he laughs, as he shoves the note back into my hand. “I’m sorry, but I really have to get back now. But I’ll keep you to that date, yeah?”

Date? So it’s definitely a date now? What the fuck happened to just drinks?

“Sure.”

He flashes a big, knowing grin, before turning to leave, already biting down into his cake. I want to get back to work, but when I hear him calling out my name, I look back up.

“It’s blueberry.”

Blueberry. So maybe my mind hasn’t given up on me just yet. Maybe I’ve been freaking out over nothing, and it will all work itself out in the end. And maybe, just maybe, I am actually going on a date with Armie fucking Hammer!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I am so sorry this took so long for me to update! I was convinced I had already posted this chapter, but I just realised that I never actually did. So yeah, this was supposed to be up a couple of days ago. Oops?  
> Xx

**Day 8**

I have spent half the night trying to wrap my head around what had happened yesterday. Had I actually agreed to go on a date with Armie? The more I thought about it, the more it started to sound like something I had made up. But then, I was sure that I had made up meeting him in the first place, and look how that turned out.

  
I must have picked my phone up at least a hundred times to send some kind of message to my online friends. Because they’ll be here in just a matter of days, so I’ll have to tell them something, right? But do I tell them I’ll be joining them, and leave out the fact that I live here, that I’ve met Armie? Do I pretend to be just another excited fan when we spot him? Or do I come clean and tell them I actually live here?

  
I even considered discussing it with my parents, but then I’d have to tell them about Armie, and although they know I’ve met him, they don’t know that we’ve spent time together almost every day for a week. Or rather, he has come into the shop to see what the flavor of the day is. I’m still not entirely sure he would have come in had we not had those goddamned colored cakes. But no, I haven’t told my parents about Armie. Not really. So they would probably tell me to meet up with my friends, and to ask Armie for a selfie next time I see him.

  
So I had gone into work, my mind on too many other things, and I had messed up at least a dozen orders. And when one mother had thrown a fit because her daughters’ drinks didn’t have the right color sparkles on it, I had almost kicked off. I could almost hear my parents shouting at me from back home, telling me off for not sticking to the whole ‘ _the customer is always right_ ’ –rule, but fucking hell! Not today!

  
I am still on edge, even after putting my energy into cleaning the shop, so when I hear a knock on the door, I am ready to explode.

  
“Can’t you read?” I shout out. “We’re closed, you…!”

  
My phone buzzes, and when I pick it out, and I see Armie’s name pop up, I realise what has just happened.

  
_I’ll go have a drink on my own then._

  
I turn around, ready to run after him, the dramatic scene already playing out in my head, where I stand in the rain, declaring my love for him, but it’s too late, and I have lost my one chance, but this is not one of my stories. Armie is still standing by the door, a knowing grin on his face.

  
“Sorry, I thought…”

  
“How about that date?” Armie asks, before I even get to finish my apology. “I have the night off, so…”

  
“I thought it was just drinks?”

  
“Okay… then how about drinks?”

  
“So not a date?”

  
“Oh, it’s definitely a date.” He grins, and for fuck sake! He must notice that all I can do is stare at him right now, my insides feeling like they are being flipped over like a pancake, because his grin grows even bigger, as he steps up to me. But I do not want him to touch me, because once I let my mind go there… I’m struggling enough already as it is to not make a fool of myself. So do NOT let your mind go to that thing he did in that movie… with his tongue… his hands…

  
“Timmy?”

  
I snap out of my thoughts, and when I realise he has just called me Timmy, I remember the comment he had left on my story. I was going to ask him about it, but I haven’t gotten the chance yet. But is this the right time? I could just let go and go on this date with him. Drinks. Not a date.

  
But no.

  
“It was you, wasn’t it? You read my story,” I blurt out, “You called me Timmy.”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“No one calls me Timmy.”

  
“I do.” He shrugs, not even trying to explain why he was reading my story. “So… drinks?”

* * *

“Sorry, man, I haven’t been on a date in a long time. So I’m a little…,” Armie chuckles, as we sit down at a table, and he hands me my drink. “I feel like I should… you know…”

  
“What?” I laugh, only now noticing the blush on his face. But is it a blush, or is it just hot in here? It’s definitely hot in here, and noisy, and crowded. And a lot of heads are turning our way every other second. But Armie doesn’t even seem to notice, probably so used to it that it doesn’t bother him.

  
“Should I have brought you flowers, or chocolates, or…?”

  
“What the fuck?” I laugh, but I quickly stop laughing, because what if he is not making a joke? “That was… it was joke, right? This is not a 90’s rom-com.”

  
“So no flowers?”

  
“No!”

  
I’m still not sure if he is taking the piss, but when he looks down at his drink, another sickly sweet, bright-coloured something, he has the shyest smile on his face. But after just a split-second, his smile changes, and he looks like the Armie I have seen before.

  
“Then what about diamonds?”

  
“Diam… oh, fuck you! That was my first-ever story! You can’t… fuck you!” I spit out, but I can feel the grin spreading all over my face, because I know that he is just messing with me. “Why were you reading those? Surely you have better things to do?”

  
“I like your stories. Besides, it helps me getting to know you.”

  
“How?”

  
I am trying to remember exactly what I have written, but there have been dozens of stories, and some of them are based on absolutely nothing, others are in fact, based on things I would like to see happen, things I would like Armie to do, things I would like to do with him… I’m fucked, aren’t I? But let’s try and get out of this with as much dignity as possible.

  
“Well, that thing with your thumb…”

  
Oh god.

  
“And that story where I was locked in a trailer with Dane?” he laughs. “Damn, that was… I have never done that before, but I want to try that out.”

  
That’s it, I am never writing another story, ever again. I quit. I’m out.

  
“Relax, Timmy. I’m only messing with you,” he laughs, before taking a sip from his drink, and pulling a disgusted face. “This is…”

  
“Sweet? Why do you keep ordering shit like that? Just get a beer.”

  
“This is more fun, isn’t it?”

  
“You’re an idiot,” I laugh, but as soon as I have said it, I look down at the table, because did I just call Armie Hammer an idiot, to his face? “I didn’t mean…”

  
“It’s good to try out new things, right?”

  
I look up, and there is something in his smile, something almost secretive, that makes me think he is not talking about drinks anymore, but I’m not sure if I’m brave enough to ask. Because is this trying out something new? And what is this, exactly? Going out with someone he doesn’t even know? Dating a fan? Flirting with a guy? Is this just some experiment, like the unicorn surprise, like his neon blue cocktail? Is he going to have a taste and realise that it isn’t for him?

* * *

“Doesn’t it bother you?” I ask, as we try to make our way out of the bar after just a few drinks. “Everyone watching you.”

  
“They’re not watching me.”

  
“Yeah, they are,” I say, pointing out a group of people who have been watching our every move from the moment we walked through the door. “How do you deal with that?”

  
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I don’t notice it.”

  
Armie Hammer in Armie Hammer World. It shouldn’t bother me, but how can he not notice it? There are people, literally staring at him. It would drive me up the walls, yet he doesn’t notice them? How? What is wrong with him?

  
“The guy is cute though,” he says, a mischievous smile on his face, and I open my mouth to cuss him out, because what the fuck? Making this out to be date, then point out a cute guy? Seriously? And no, I am not jealous. Okay, yes, maybe I am. But really? I know he said he wasn’t used to going on dates, but surely he should know better than this, right?

  
But when he lets out a chuckle, I realise he had noticed my irritated look, and he was just trying to draw me back in by lightening the mood.

  
“Don’t worry, man, I’m not interested in… Randy.”

  
“Randy?”

  
“I don’t know what his name is, do I?”

  
“That’s Mike, he’s Harley’s brother,” I explain, as we step outside, the cold night air making me feel like I can finally breathe again. It helps to not have a dozen eyes on me anymore too.

  
“Who’s Harley?”

  
“You’ve met them, they work at the shop. Green hair, tattoos…”

  
“Oh, right… yeah, I’m pretty sure they were taking my picture when I was waiting for you,” Armie remembers, and yeah, that’s Harley alright. “They kept messing with their phone, and the flash even went off. It wasn’t very subtle.”

  
“Is that really how it is all the time?”

  
“I guess. But like I said, I don’t really notice it, most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s fun, but…”

  
“Fun?”

  
“Yeah, like when I get to meet fans who spend day and night writing stories about me,” he says, and is he really using my own words against me? “Who can’t stop staring, and who start blushing, like they are…”

  
“I hate you.”

  
“So no second date?”

  
“No.”

  
“Not even if I do that thing…”

  
“No!”

  
He is staring at me, and I swear, my insides have never felt like this before. I wish I could bottle this feeling up, and take it with me every day from now on, so when I feel like shit, I can remember this moment, right here, right now.

  
“Can I walk you home?” Armie asks, and this time the smile on his face isn’t full of arrogance, of mischief. It’s a genuine smile, and a little nervous. “Or is that too ‘90’s rom-com’ for you?”

  
“You can walk me home.”

  
I can see the scene playing out, me asking him to come in, and after we have had another drink on the couch, he starts kissing me, his hands all over me, his grip firm, but gentle. And his mouth…

  
“What are you thinking?” he asks, a knowing smile on his face. Oh shit, please tell me I did not say all of that out loud. Trust me, it wouldn’t be the first time.

  
“Nothing.”

  
“You’re blushing.”

  
“No, I’m not!”

  
Yes, I am. I know I am.

  
“Tell me! Was is the thumb thing?” he laughs. He really isn’t going to let go of that, is he? “Have you tried it out? Is it possible?”

  
“I am not having this conversation.”

  
“Was it really…”

  
“Armie!”

  
I can’t help but laugh when I see the curious, but excited look on his face, and for a split-second I wonder what he would say if I were to ask him up to my room. Would he accept the invite?

  
But what am I even doing, thinking about it? I can’t just go and invite him into my parents’ house, can I? They don’t even know him. Imagine if they’d see him leaving my room in the morning.

  
In the morning, really? Why am I even thinking about spending the night with Armie? This was just a date. Drinks. I am not going to have sex with Armie. But then maybe… No!

  
“Is this where you live?” he asks me, as I stop walking, my mind still racing. Because this is definitely like a scene from a movie, and we all know what is coming next, don’t we? The awkward goodbye. Do I shake his hand? Do I give him a hug? Thank him for a nice evening?

  
But before I can even come up with something, he has stepped up to me, and he has kissed me. It’s just a quick kiss, and by the time I fully realise it is happening, it is already over. But yeah, Armie has just kissed me. Again.

  
“I like you, Timmy.”

  
“Yeah…”

  
That’s all you have to say to him? Really?

  
“Goodnight.”

  
I love you.

  
For a split-second I freeze in my tracks, because did I just say that out loud? But when he just flashes a smile, before turning and leaving, I breathe a sigh of relief.

  
I love you?

  
Really?


	9. Chapter 9

**Day 9**

I can already see the look on my mom’s face, as soon as I sit down at the kitchen table for breakfast. She knows. Maybe not everything, but she knows.

“You got home late.”

“Yeah…”

“Were you out with friends?”

Yes, mom. I was out with all of my friends. All of… oh yeah, that’s right, I don’t have any real-life friends. Thanks.

“No.”

She gives me that stare that you know you can’t ignore. Not telling her anything is not an option, so I guess it really is time to stop running away, and to start facing reality.

“I was on a date.”

“A date?”

Yes, mom, a date. No need to act surprised, because we all know that you already knew.

“Do we know him?” dad asks, not even looking up from the paper in his hands.

“I was on a date with Armie.”

Here we go. This is it. No more keeping Armie to myself. They will want to meet him, see if he’s the real deal. Mom is probably already planning our wedding, dad is ready to threaten him, tell him that if he hurts me… Why are they laughing?

“Armie Hammer?” mom laughs. “Is this something you do with your friends? Like cosplay?”

“That’s not…”

“Cosplay is when you dress up,” dad explains, and my mom nods, a confused look on her face. “I think you mean on the computer, right? Like they pretend to be this guy?”

“Like a Catfish?”

“No, mom, that’s not what a Catfish is. But…”

“So who were you?”

“Who was I?” I ask, not sure if I am following. “I was myself. Timothée? I went on a date with Armie last night. Not online. We went to a bar, and we had a couple of drinks.”

“Are you sure it was him? Wasn’t it just another boy who looked like him?”

Yes, mom, that must be it. It happens all the time! What, with all these guys here in town who look exactly like Armie fucking Hammer. Thanks for clearing that up for me!

I try not to show how frustrated I am getting, but when my parents share a knowing smile, clearly not believing me, and thinking I have either confused some random guy for Armie, or I have made the whole thing up, I get up.

“Fine, it wasn’t Armie, okay? It was just some random guy. Because why would Armie Hammer want to go out with me, right?” I spit out, before stomping up to my room like the five-year old I am. But seriously? I am finally ready to open up to them, and they make me out to be a liar? That hurts.

* * *

I had left for work early, mostly to avoid seeing my parents, but also because I couldn’t wait to see Armie again. But it’s almost time to close up, and he hasn’t shown up. I know he is busy, and he has gotten into the habit of showing up late, but something tells me that today is different. Maybe I was right last night, maybe he was just trying things out, and dating me wasn’t what he wanted after all. I’m not going to lie, I was finally starting to believe him, starting to believe that all of this, crazy as it is, was really happening, and now it’s over?

“Sorry I’m late again,” I say, as soon as I’m through the door, already having thought of what excuse I’ll be using today. But when I step into the kitchen, I find a huge bouquet of roses, and a box of chocolates on the table.

“Is it your anniversary?” I ask, but my mom turns around, a big smile on her face.

“They’re not for me.”

“They’re dad’s?”

I try to laugh it off, but last night’s conversation flashes through my mind, and I can feel the smile creeping onto my face. So I grab the card, trying my best to ignore the little love heart that is drawn next to my name.

_Timmy,  
Thanks for last night. Sorry these aren’t diamonds, but I hope these will do for now.  
Sorry I won’t be able to come see you for a couple of days, but I’ll see you later. Call me.  
X_

“They were delivered just after you left,” my mom says, still watching me. “Are they from the boy you went out with last night?”

The boy I went out with last night? She still doesn’t believe I actually went out with Armie then. But when I look down at the card again, I can’t help but smile, because I know it really happened. That’s what matters, right?

“Are we going to meet him?”

“I don’t know. It was only our first date.”

Our first date. I went on a first date with actual Armie Hammer.

Why am I not freaking out anymore? Have I gotten so lost in the madness that this has become my new normality?

I am only now realizing that I haven’t freaked out once today about the fact that last night happened. I freaked out over my parents not believing me, over Harley and their friends gossiping about him, about Armie not showing up, about the fact that the blue cake turned out to be honey, and not peach. But last night? Last night was fun. Last night was great. A little weird, a little uncomfortable, but it was a first date, so what do you expect?

“Will there be a second date?”

“I hope so. I think so.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Day 10**

Those red fucking roses!

I was going to leave them downstairs, because don’t get me wrong, I love roses. But all of this, it’s just so… it’s too much, isn’t it? Walking me home, sending me flowers, chocolates… it’s too much. It’s too perfect. I don’t like it.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been living in my own little world of fanfiction, and I’m used to writing stories that are filled with drama. But all of this, it makes me feel uneasy. I’m waiting for the catch. The hidden cameras… it was all for a bet… the wife… Fine, I know Armie isn’t married. Trust me, our fan group would have found out about it if he had a wife or a girlfriend hidden somewhere. But still, there has to be a catch.

Those goddamned roses aren’t making me feel any better either. Every single one of them is staring me down, laughing at me… okay, maybe I didn’t sleep. Maybe I spent half the night trying to figure out what my next step is. Am I going to ask Armie out? Do I wait for him to text me? He did tell me to call him, but I don’t want to call him when he’s at work, do I? And what would I say? Thanks for the roses? All forty-nine of them. Yes, I counted them. Why not fifty? What happened to that fiftieth rose?

I am still riling myself up over the goddamned roses, when my phone buzzes. I don’t have to check to see who it is, do I?

_How did you like the flowers?_

Fuck you.

Fuck you and your fucking roses and your fucking chocolates and your fucking chivalry.

Just… fuck you.

_Not a fan of roses?  
How about tulips next time?_

I keep staring at his texts, and I can see the little green dot that shows that he’s online. So he knows that I’m here too, but still I can’t get myself to text him back. Because, well, I’m not in the best of moods, am I? And just because he sent me flowers? It’s not fair, is it? But it’s just too good to be true.

My phone starts ringing, and I almost reject his call. But I should thank him. Even if it was a joke. Our joke. The thing we laughed at on our date. Because let’s be real, that’s all it is, isn’t it? A joke, just like him reading my stories, bringing up the thumb thing… it’s what he does.

“Did you get them?” he laughs, as soon as I answer, and I can just see that stupid grin on his face.

“My mom did.”

“Your… oh shit,” he laughs. “What did you tell her?”

“That some stupid idiot thought he was being funny.”

“Wow, you’re really not a fan of flowers, are you?” he sighs. “Sorry, man. I thought…”

“You’re not going to show up at my house, are you? Blasting some cheesy song from an old boombox,” I ask, but when he doesn’t answer, I sit up. “Are you?”

“Don’t go giving me any ideas here.”

“Is this really what you’re like? The whole… you know… what is all this?”

“I was trying to be romantic?”

“Romantic?” I laugh, but what if he is not messing about? What if he actually means it?

“I told you, man, I’m not used to this. Why do you think I read that stuff you wrote? I was trying to figure out what you like. But I couldn’t exactly take you to Paris, could I? And I don’t own a private yacht, or…”

“You’re Armie Hammer.”

“I know,” he laughs uncomfortably. “I like you, Timmy. Give me some time to figure out how to do this, yeah?”

Armie fucking Hammer, showing me his vulnerable side? What the hell is happening here? Wasn’t I the one who was nervous around him? Now he’s the one feeling nervous about our date? About what is going on between us?

“You’re not who I thought you were.”

“Ouch?”

“No, I… I think that’s a good thing?” I say, but it comes out as a question.

“Again, ouch?” he chuckles nervously. “Disappointed?”

“No. Maybe a little,” I say, before quickly adding. “I definitely thought you’d have a private yacht…”

I hear him laughing, and I can’t help but smile as the roses catch my eye again.

“But no more roses, or chocolates… even though my mom loved them.”

“You gave them to your mom?” he laughs. “I’m sorry, okay? No more 90’s rom-com, and no more romance.”

“None at all?”

“None. You can buy your own drinks from now on.”

I can hear that he is trying to keep a straight face, but he is failing miserably, and as a comfortable silence follows, I can’t help but imagine him, lying there, in his rented home, just a few blocks from here. He is actually there, thinking about me, about our date. This is the guy I fell for, the second he popped up on tv. The guy whose career I’ve been following, whose every movie I have seen, whose every interview I have watched, listening to his every word. And even though I know it’s him, with every day that goes by, I struggle more to see him as that same guy. Because the guy I saw in those interviews, he was cool, he was confident, and from the stories that had popped up in our group, I had come to believe that he was getting through Hollywood actresses like I get through the left-over cakes. But this guy I met? He is different. He is starting to seem less and less like the Hollywood actor, and more like just another twenty-something year old guy.

“Armie?”

“Mhm?

“The flowers are great. Thank you.”

“Yeah? So we’re on for another date?”

“You’re still not sick of me?” I laugh, but as soon as the words have left my mouth, I get cold chills. Because what if he says yes?

“Why do you think I’m not coming for a coffee for at least… a week?” he asks, and what the hell? A week? I thought a couple of days meant maybe two, three days? But a week? When he’s only in town for a month?

“You’ll come back though, right?”

“Maybe. Depends on what’s in it for me.”

“You’re not talking about that thing with the thumb again, are you?” I ask, but as soon as the words have left my mouth, I hear him laughing. “What?”

“I was thinking maybe a special coffee, or a cake I haven’t tried yet. But if that’s what you’re offering, I will definitely have to come back, won’t I?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Day 11**

This morning I had woken up from the most realistic dream, and it had taken me a while to realise that I was not actually with Armie. I was not lying on the kitchen table in some New York loft, Armie’s mouth… yeah, you get where my dream was going.

I could still feel his fingers on my skin though, the warmth of his mouth, his tongue… I had done so well, trying not to think about him in the shower… my bed… once as I was sitting at my desk, trying to write. But not once had I gotten myself off, thinking about him. It felt a little wrong now that I had actually met him. But after that dream, I had not even hesitated to let the full fantasy play out in my mind.

Sure, I had felt a little guilty afterwards, because how was I going to face him now, after that dream, after that jerk-off fantasy? I hadn’t felt guilty for long though, because he told me, didn’t he? He wasn’t going to show up for another week or so, so by the time I’d have to face him again, all of this, it would be long forgotten.

But as I feel my mind drifting off to this morning’s fantasy again, I hear the door opening. I snap out of it, and I flash my best ‘ _Hello, how are you? What can I get you? I am definitely not thinking about Armie Hammer sucking my dick_.’ –smile. But when I look straight into Armie’s face, I can feel the blush creeping up on me.

“You’re here.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “What? You didn’t think I was really going to stay away for that long, did you?”

“But you said…”

“It was joke. Kind of. I do have to go into work in…,” he checks his phone, before sighing. “I’m already late.”

All I can do is nod, my cheeks burning like crazy, because Armie is here. Armie, who only this morning, had done so many things to me in my fantasy. Things I wouldn’t even dare write about in my stories.

“What’s going on? Are we back to the blushing and staring? I thought we’d gotten past that?” he laughs, but no, we have definitely not gotten past that. Because I am blushing, and I am staring. And I do not know what to say to him. Great to see you, guess what I did this morning?

“What am I missing? Do I have something on my face?”<

You sure did this morning.

Really, Timothée?

“Okay, why are you looking at me like that? Is it the flowers? I told you…”

“I had a weird dream,” I admit, and I go over to the cake display, hoping to distract him with today’s pink lime cake, but I can feel his eyes burning into me, and I just know that he is not going to let this go.

“Oh yeah? What kind of a dream?”

He knows. Of course he does.

“Aliens.”

“Aliens?” he laughs, raising an eyebrow. “So what did you and this ehm… alien… get up to, huh?”<

“Nothing.”

“Maybe you should write about this nothing,” he suggests, that fanged grin really not helping the matter. Because I’m pretty sure it’s that grin that made me end up at his place in my dream in the first place.

“Maybe I should.”

No, I should not. Because what would he think, huh, if he knew what I wanted him to do to me? But when I look at him, I realise that he is daring me. He wants to know.

* * *

So maybe I have just spent the entire night writing down my dream, my fantasy, added a little here and there. Left out a little, because let’s face it, some things are best to be kept quiet. But now that I’m staring at the words, at the Armie / original character one-shot this dream has become, I’m not quite sure what I’m meant to do with it. Sure, it had seemed like Armie was daring me to write it, but what if he was just kidding again? What if I put this out there, and it is the thing that finally freaks him out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> First of all, I'm sorry that this chapter is so ridiculously short. But the next chapter makes up for it! I hope. ;-)  
> Second, I just want to say a huge thank you for all the lovely comments I've been getting on this story. I know I'm the worst at replying to them, and I'm really sorry! But seriously, thank you!!  
> Also, I love writing this story, but my health is starting to get in the way of my writing at the moment. I have written a few more chapters so far, so I can still continue posting, and I really hope I can start writing again by the time I've caught up posting what I've written so far. But in case I do run out, and I can't start writing again soon, I just want to say that I am not abandoning this story. I will finish it, because I really enjoy writing it. So if I don't post for a little while, I am really sorry, but I will be back. This story will be finished, one way or another.  
> Xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I just want to say a massive thank you for all your sweet comments. Your kind words really meant a lot to me. So thank you! <3  
> The last chapter was a short one, but hopefully this one makes up for it.  
> Enjoy!  
> Xx

**Day 12**

I haven’t checked my phone all morning, because what if Armie has read the story that I had written last night? I had felt a little brave, a little daring, and I had ended up posting it. But just seconds later, any bravery I had felt, had left me, so I had quickly turned off my laptop, not giving myself a chance to delete it before anyone could read it. Not running away anymore, remember?

I’m still nervous about checking my phone though. Because what if there’s a text from Armie? This is not the same as when he had read my other stories. I had written them about a fictional Armie, before we had met. This time he knows it’s about him, the real him. This time there is no denying that ‘original character’ or ‘Ben’, it’s me. It feels like I have put myself out there, and I’m not sure how he is going to react. Laugh it off? Leave another ‘anonymous’ comment? Send me more flowers? Who knows how the hell he reacts to anything anymore?

There are no texts though, none at all. Not even a ‘ _call me_ ’, or ‘ _sorry I can’t come see you today_ ’. It could be a good thing, but we all know that I’m assuming the worst. So he must have read the story, blocked my number. Fled town. That kind of thing.

I check my fanfiction account, just to be sure, and when I see the little notification bubble, my heart skips a beat. See, he did read it. He must have left a comment, telling me off. Telling me goodbye. Fine, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.<

I’m expecting one comment. Armie’s. But I’m shocked to find more than twenty comments, all of them praising last night’s story. Most of them are from people who have accounts on the website, so they’re definitely not Armie. Unless he is pretending to be someone else, but I doubt it. And the anonymous comments don’t sound like him either. So he didn’t read it? Then why did he dare me to write it? Well, I guess he didn’t actually dare me to write it. But he did. Didn’t he?

* * *

I had gotten a text from Armie, just as I had gotten downstairs for breakfast. I was going to ignore it, because after telling my parents about Armie, after the roses… I didn’t exactly want them to see me breaking down because I was being told off for writing a story about him sucking my dick, did I?

But when my phone kept buzzing, and I kept ignoring it, my dad reached out to grab it. He was probably just going to put it in a drawer because he was sick of it being on the table, buzzing ever other minute, but I didn’t realise that at the time. I thought he was going to check my messages. Armie’s messages. So I quickly grabbed it. Because it was probably better to have a breakdown in front of my parents than to have them see his texts, right?

_I have the day off. Want to hang out?  
I thought maybe you could show me around town.  
Are you working today?  
Or we could hang out tonight.  
Go on another date, I mean._

Really? That’s it?

“Do you mind putting away your phone?” dad asks, and I look up. “I’m sure it can wait.”

“I need the day off.”

“Okay… because?”

“Because I’m hanging out with a friend today.”

“Today?” dad laughs. “No, Tim. If you want to spend time with friends, that’s fine. But you can’t tell us on the day. What do you want us to do? Close the shop so you can go to the movies?”

“When do I ever ask for time off, huh?” I spit out. “I am at the shop every day, and I never complain. I even stay late to clean up.”

No, I don’t. I stay late to hang out with Armie. But whatever.<

“I never mess up, I never get into trouble. Now I want to hang out with a friend, and you won’t let me?”

“What friend?” mom asks, and I can see that this is working. I know it isn’t fair to guilt-trip them into giving me the day off, but I’m sure they’ll forgive me.

“You don’t know him. It’s just some guy I’ve been hanging out with at the shop.”

“Is he the boy who sent you the flowers?”

“He is.” I nod, and there we go. That was all I had to say to convince her? “We’re going on another date.”

“I’m not happy about this, Tim. Next time you tell us, so we can try and get someone to fill in for you,” dad says, and I flash my best smile. “I guess I better go get ready for work then.”

“What about Harley?”

“Harley has to leave early, that’s why you had to cover for them today.”

Right. Cover for Harley today. I definitely hadn’t forgotten about that.

“Be careful, will you?” mom asks, “Why don’t you invite him over for dinner tonight?”

For a split-second, I think how nice it would be to have Armie here at the house. To have him sitting here, talking to my parents, like he’s a part of the family. But this is Armie Hammer we’re talking about. They didn’t even believe me when I told them about our date, so who knows what they’ll do when I bring him home? Accuse him of being one of our town’s oh so many Armie Hammer look-a-likes?

Let’s put that off for a little while yet.

* * *

“Please tell me that is not…”

“Oh come on, man. No flowers, no chocolates, now you don’t like picnics?” Armie laughs. “Then tell me, what do you want?”

I told you. I wrote it down, and I put it out there for everyone to read. For you to read. I told you exactly what I want, down to the details. Well, that’s not entirely true. I left out some of the details. But still, if you want to know what I really want, just go online, and read my latest story.

“A picnic is fine.”

“I walk past that park every day, and it seems like the perfect place to sit down and relax. I haven’t gotten the chance yet though,” Armie says, “How about you show me around, then we end with a picnic?”

“What have you got in there?” I ask, looking down at the basket hanging from his arm. It looks like something my grandma used to have, and I wonder if he brought this all the way from home, fully expecting to have time for a picnic, or if he bought this especially for today. It’s almost as bad as the flowers, isn’t it? But it’s kind of cute, and when he shows me the basket, filled to the brim with bottles of lemonade, sandwiches, a dry-looking cake, and something that I’m sure is meant to pass for a salad, I feel a grin taking over my face. Because yeah, this is cute. So what if there is a catch coming eventually? Why not try and enjoy today, and leave tomorrow’s worries for tomorrow?

* * *

“This is where I live,” Armie says, and I can’t help but smile at his choice of words. “What?”

“Do you like it here? It’s not exactly a five-star hotel, is it?”

“What? You think that’s what I’m used to?”

“Well, you’re…”

“Armie Hammer. Yeah, so you keep telling me.”

Something about the way he says it sounds off, and I sigh, feeling guilty.

“Sure, I make movies, and people recognise me sometimes, but…”

Sometimes? He is all over the internet, and when we had gone out the other night, people would not stop staring at him. This is just a small town, so imagine if we were in a big city. Would people be harassing him all night? Asking for selfies, autographs? Would there have been paparazzi, waiting for us to come out of the bar, waiting to get that exclusive picture to sell to the highest bidder?

He’s not exactly your average Joe, is he?

“I told you, I don’t own a yacht, I don’t do the whole Hollywood thing… it’s boring. This… going for a walk, a picnic… this is who I am, Timmy.”

“I’m still disappointed about the yacht though,” I say, and when I see the smile forming on his face, I know the moment has passed, and that we’re ready to move on from it. But I can’t help but think about his words, because if this is who he is, then who is the guy I have been reading about all that time? Who was that guy who gets pictured with a different girl every other week? Who shows up at every Hollywood event, every party, every premiere. If he doesn’t do the Hollywood thing, then who was that?

* * *

“Do you come here often?” Armie asks, after we have finally made it to the park, and we have sat down. He opens the basket, and the sandwiches are looking soggy, the salad looks like something that should have been tossed out days ago, and the cake hasn’t gotten any fresher either. But I will eat all of it, because I’m not going to lie, this is nice. Being out here with Armie, spending time outside of the shop, it’s nice. It feels, dare I say it, normal. Don’t get me wrong, I still feel like I’m about to start freaking out in a ‘ _Holy shit, I am actually on a date, and yeah, I wouldn’t mind kissing this guy, and it feels like my heart is about to explode every time he smiles at me_ ’ – kind of way. But I’m not exactly used to going on dates, am I?

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid,” I say, and Armie looks up at me. “But I haven’t been back since I moved back.”

“Why did you drop out of college?”

“It wasn’t for me.” I shrug, and he flashes a small, knowing smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s not some big secret, I just… I don’t know. I felt out of place, I started having panic attacks… I probably should have asked for help and stayed there, but I decided to drop out instead.”

“And now you make rainbow drinks.”

“Exactly.” I smile, but when he reaches out to take my hand, the smile leaves my face, because what the hell? We’re in public. People can see us. What if someone takes a picture, and it ends up online? What if it appears in the fan group, and my friends find out about it?

“Sorry, man…,” Armie quickly says, noticing my reaction, and he quickly offers me a sandwich instead. I take it, flashing an uncomfortable smile, but he doesn’t seem to hold my reaction against me.

“I ehm… I actually came out to my parents over there,” I say, trying to change the subject, and he looks over to the bench I’m looking at.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I told them I was going to marry this guy I knew…”

“Should I be worried?” Armie laughs, as he looks back at me. “Is this guy still in the picture?”

“Nah. I was eight,” I laugh. “He turned out to be a real jerk. He got his girlfriend pregnant when he was fifteen, then dumped her.”

“Does he still live around here?”

“Last I heard, his parents kicked him out.”

“So I have nothing to worry about then?” Armie grins, before looking down at the soggy bread in his hand. “Did you parents always accept it?”

“What? My bad taste in men?”

“Thanks!”

“That I’m gay?”

“Mhm.”

“Sure. I didn’t know I was gay when I told them I wanted to marry this guy though.” I shrug. “So when a few years later I did go through this whole ‘ _holy shit, not every guy is into other guys_ ’ – thing, I told my mom. I thought something was wrong with me, because all the guys in our school were starting to talk about girls, you know?”

“Mhm.”

“My mom just told me that there was nothing wrong with me, and that was that. I didn’t have some big, dramatic coming out,” I explain, and I almost ask him what it was like for him. But I remember all the girls, I remember the blue cocktail, the whole ‘trying out new things’. I’m pretty sure there has been no coming out.

“Have you had many boyfriends?”

“Have you?” I ask, and by the look on his face I can tell that he knows that I am daring him. But he just shakes his head, smiling down at his sandwich, so I decide to answer his question instead. “A few. But I wouldn’t really call them boyfriends. They were more like…”

“Hook-ups?”

“No!” I laugh. “More like guys I hung out with, and we, you know…”

“Hooked up?”

“Fine, yes. The guys around here are not exactly the kind you want to bring home to your parents.”

“Have you ever brought any of them home to meet them?”

I can’t help but smile at how nervous he is, because is he actually thinking about meeting my parents? Armie Hammer, nervous about meeting my parents? Isn’t he the guy who flies around the world to work with the biggest names in Hollywood? But he gets nervous about meeting my parents, who, no offence, are just two people who run a coffee shop.

“Are you scared they’ll be disappointed?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, but there’s a nervous, shy smile on his face. “Your dad is _the_ Chalamet from Chalamet Coffee, so…”

“I know a way you can charm them.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Just buy them flowers. That always works, doesn’t it?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Day 13**

I have always enjoyed writing stories, and even though I have never been the most popular writer out there, I have never let it stop me from writing. Don’t get me wrong, it still hurts when I am proud of a story, and it turns out I’m the only one who likes it. But better luck next time, right? I had kind of gotten used to getting one, maybe two comments, and I could have gone on like that for the next however many years. But you know the story I wrote after Armie dared me to write about my dream? Okay, maybe he didn’t actually dare me to write it. But I thought he did. That counts. That story, it has seemed to catch on with people, because every time I check my fanfiction account, there are dozens of new comments. Who knew people liked to read about Armie sucking dick so much, huh?

I have just replied to all the new comments, ignoring the chat notification that keeps popping up. Because the people from the group who decided to come out to see if they can catch a glimpse of Armie, maybe even meet him, they are getting here tomorrow, and I haven’t actually told them I live here yet. I have kept putting it off, and it has resulted in me not actually going into the chat anymore. Because I still haven’t figured out what I am going to tell them. I can’t exactly tell them the truth, can I? You know that guy we’ve all been talking about? Guess what, we’ve been on a date.

I still remember what they said about the last woman he was spotted with, and I do not want to be the next… the next what, exactly? It’s not like I’m a Hollywood actress, hanging on his arm, batting my fake eyelashes at him, my big, fake… Fine, I know it isn’t fair, and not all the girls he’s been spotted with are like that. But the more I think about them, the more frustrated I get. Because what were they, and what am I?

* * *

I’m still ignoring the chat notifications on my phone, and I’m about to turn my phone off entirely, but Armie has already noticed.

“Your boyfriend?”

“Very funny. It’s ehm… the group I’m in.”

“Your fan group?” Armie asks, and I nod, not sure how he is going to react. Not sure if he was expecting me to leave it at some point, because you know, we kissed, and all that. “Shouldn’t you answer it?”

“It’s the chat.”

“And you are not checking it out because…?”

“I should have warned you, but some of them are coming out here to meet you.”

“You told them?” Armie asks, and I expect him to panic, to get angry, to get up and leave. But I can’t quite make out the reaction on his face, so I shake my head.

“No, I didn’t. They don’t know I live here. But they know you’re filming in town, so they want to see if they can meet you,” I try to explain. “But I didn’t tell them about… whatever is happening here.”

“And you didn’t tell them you live here?”

“No, but they’re getting here tomorrow. And you know that picture Harley took of you? They have it, so it’s only a matter of time until they figure out it was taken here.”

“I’m still not seeing what the problem is.” Armie shrugs, and I am really starting to wonder if I should even bother trying to explain it to him, or if I should just let it go. But when he reaches out, and he grabs my hand, I can feel a smile coming onto my face. “They are your friends, right?”

“Yeah, but…”

“So hang out with them.”

“But they don’t know I live here, if they find out…”

“Then pick up your phone and tell them. And don’t worry, if I see you with them, I’ll act surprised.” He grins. “I won’t have a clue who you are.”

“You’re not angry?”

“Angry?” he laughs. “Timmy, just go hang out with your friends. Call me when it’s safe for me to come see you again, and then we’ll…”

“What?”

He looks down at his empty mug, a nervous smile on his face, his hand still on mine, and I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking. So I dare to be a little brave, and I reach out to brush my free hand through his hair, before resting it on the back of his neck.

“We’ll do what?”

“Can I take you out again?”

“Another picnic?”

“Dinner?” he suggests, still looking a little shy, but when I start caressing the back of his neck, he melts into the touch, and he closes his eyes, a relaxed smile on his face.

“Will you let me pay this time?” I ask, and he opens his eyes again, staring at me for the longest time, before finally nodding. “No flowers?”

“No flowers. Just dinner and…”

“A kiss?” I ask, and last week I would have kicked myself for asking for a kiss, but I don’t even care anymore. I want to be here, planning another date, talking about kissing him. I want to kiss him, I want to touch him, and… okay, so maybe I do still care a little bit. I’m not exactly ready to tell him all that I want. I tried that when I wrote my latest story, and look how that turned out. It’s a great success, but he hasn’t actually read, has he? So he still doesn’t know what my fantasy was. Is.

“I want to kiss you right now, Timmy,” he whispers. Maybe it’s the sugar from the caramel drink I’ve just had, or the marshmallow cake, or the caffeine from the five coffees I’ve had today because I was nervous. Okay, seven coffees. But two didn’t count, because they were messed up orders, and otherwise I would have had to throw them out. They weren’t finished drinks, so they did not count. But I’m sure they are making me feel a little braver than usual right now, because before I have even thought about it, I have kissed Armie, my hand still caressing the back of his neck.

I can taste the strawberry on his tongue, the hint of marshmallows, but there is something else there too. It’s a heat, a hunger, and when I am about to pull back, he puts his hand on the back of my head, not ready to let go of our kiss just yet. So I go on kissing him, not even trying to hold back anymore, and it isn’t until we run out of air, that we finally break away from each other.

“Wow, that was…,” he chuckles, a dark blush on his face. “We should definitely do that again.”

“Give me a moment, yeah?”

When he had kissed me for the first time, it had been sweet, and careful. But this kiss, it feels like the kisses I had written about. The kisses I had fantasised about. The kisses that had led to so many other things, that I can feel my mind drifting off. What would happen if I tried to take it a step further? What would he say? Would he back out, think this is too much? Or would he not hesitate to go for it? And what would I do then? Is that even what I want right now? What would I even do if he tried to have sex with me, right here, right now? To be honest, I would probably be too nervous and only mess it up. He would only have to look at my dick to make me come, and what would he think then?

“Timmy?”

“Mhm.”

“Talk to your friends,” he says, and he must have taken the look on my face as me worrying about what I had told him about earlier. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“And when they’ve gone home again, we’ll go on that date, yeah?” He smiles, before bringing his mouth up to my ear. “Want to make out some more before I have to go back?”

“Do you even need to ask?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I have started writing again. Unfortunately the first thing I did was write a one-shot, and I didn't actually work on this story. Oops? But today I will start working on a new chapter, so if things go to plan, I should be able to keep posting regularly.  
> Thanks again for all your support! <3  
> XX

**Day 14**

All night I had been tossing and turning, worrying about running into my online friends, worried about what I was going to say to them. I knew it would be best to just tell them the truth, explain to them that I hadn’t mentioned where I lived because I didn’t want them to know how I close I was to where Armie was filming. I would add a little lie, tell them I would be too nervous to try and meet Armie, and I didn’t want to let them down. They would probably understand, and we’d all be good. But I know what I can be like, I panic, I say stupid things, and what if I slip up and they find out I have met him, but I didn’t tell them? It wouldn’t be the end of the world, right? But I keep thinking about the worst case scenarios, and I can already see them standing in the coffee shop, yelling at me, calling me all kinds of things for lying to them. Telling me they hate me and they never want to speak to me again. I’ll be kicked out of the group, and it’ll be all my own fault.

I had skipped breakfast to go for a walk, hoping that the fresh air would make me feel better. But I had kept looking over my shoulder, scared to run into my friends. Somehow I had found myself standing in front of the house Armie had shown me the other day. I almost go up to the door to see if he’s in, but I feel like it would cross a line. He’d have to invite me here first, right?

I am still staring at the door, secretly wishing Armie would just magically appear, when I feel two hands grabbing my waist. It makes my heart jump, and not in a good way. It almost sets off the one or two self-defence moves my dad had taught me as a kid, but when I feel a warm breath on my neck, I decide against trying to work whoever it is against the floor. Because let’s face it, I probably wouldn’t win anyway.

“Coming to see me?” Armie whispers, the grip on my waist tightening.

“I wasn’t… I was just going for a walk, and…,” I try, but he places a quick kiss on my neck, before letting go of me. So I turn to face him, and when I see the knowing grin on his face, I know there’s no point in trying to deny it. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” He shrugs. “I just got back from a run, so I have to take a shower, but want to go out for breakfast after?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we’re starting late today. Unless your friends are already here. I don’t want you to get into trouble with them,” he quickly adds, and I can’t help but smile, because he actually remembers? I only told him last night, but I can imagine he has other things to worry about than me freaking out over people I have never actually met.

“I don’t know, I still haven’t talked to them,” I admit. “But breakfast sounds good. Do you want to meet at the shop, or…?”

“No, come in,” he laughs, and before even giving me a chance to say no, he leads me up to the house. I follow him in, but the second I step through the door I wonder if I am making a mistake. Do I even want to be here? Do I want to know what he lives like? I know it isn’t his actual home, but my mom has always told me that a house, even a hotel room, can tell you a lot about what someone is like. What if Armie is the kind of person who lets his stuff lie around, expecting someone else to clean it up for him?

But when he leads me up the stairs, all my thoughts are turning to mush. What the fuck is happening? Am I really following him up to his bedroom? Should I have stayed downstairs, waiting for him to get ready? Is it too late to turn around now?

He gets a key out of his pocket, and when he unlocks the door, I realise he didn’t take me to his bedroom at all. He just took me to his room. I assumed the house was his, but it’s just this small bedroom. I can hear myself laughing, because Armie Hammer, staying in this bedroom, which looks like it hasn’t been redecorated since the 50’s? I had always pictured him staying at 5-star hotels, to have his own apartment with the best view in town, to have people looking after him twenty-four seven. But I doubt anyone cleans his room for him here.

“Not what you were expecting?” He grins, when he sees the shocked look on my face. “Is it ruining the fantasy?”

“No,” I laugh, but he must have noticed the blush on my face, because he steps up to me, and he puts his hands on my hips, before leaning down to kiss my neck. I can feel myself melting into his touch, but when he brings our hips together, and it hits me just how close his dick is to mine, I quickly step back. Because all the things I have written about, all the things I had watched him do in my mind, the fantasies I had jerked off to, they are all flashing through my mind, and I can’t let myself go there. Not now. Not yet.

“Sorry, man,” Armie laughs nervously. “I’ll be ready in five, yeah?”

He grabs his things, and disappears out of the room, making me feel more than just a little uncomfortable. Because this is someone else’s house, and this is Armie’s room, and what the fuck am I doing here?

All I want to do is go through Armie’s things, just to get to know him better, but I somehow manage to keep my hands to myself. But I feel really awkward, just standing here, so I sit down on the edge of the bed, hoping that Armie won’t mind, and I carefully let the tips of my fingers slide over the covers. The covers underneath which Armie has slept last night. The covers which have gotten to hold him, embrace him. Has he touched himself in this bed? If so, who was he thinking of? Was it me? Us? Will I ever get to share this bed with him? Is this where we are going to have sex?

Armie steps back into the room, and I quickly stop touching the covers, hoping he hasn’t noticed. But there is a glint in his eyes, as he is leaning against the wardrobe, watching me.

“Do you think it’ll do?”

“Huh?”

“I’m just kidding, Timmy.” He grins, but I am only now getting what he was asking. “Let’s go.”

Armie takes me to a small pancake restaurant, and I have to admit that although I have walked past it a dozen times since it opened last year, I have never actually gone in. But when our food arrives, and I look at the huge stack of pancakes, covered in sticky syrup and fresh fruit, I can feel my mouth water. I don’t hesitate to dig in, for a moment forgetting that I am here with Armie, who probably won’t be all that impressed when he sees me eating like this. But when I look up, I see him gorging down, half of his plate already empty, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I shouldn’t be eating this kind of stuff, but I am telling you, man, these are some of the best pancakes I have ever had,” Armie laughs, before stuffing another piece into his mouth. “Oh, and their milkshakes… seriously, I would eat here every day if I could.”

“So this is where we’re going for dinner?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a candlelit dinner, you know, if that’s not too ‘90’s rom-com’?” he asks, and I feel the smile forming on my face. “But I’m happy to eat here.”

“I’m sure they could put up a candlelit dinner if you asked. You’re Armie fucking Hammer.”

“Armie fucking Hammer?” he laughs, and wow, I actually just called him that to his face. Way to go. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure if I went up to them and asked them ‘Hey, can you please arrange a candlelit dinner for me and my date? Because, you know, I am Armie fucking Hammer.’, they would really appreciate it.”

“Have you ever done that?”

“What? Used my name to get something done?” he asks, and I nod. “Once, but it didn’t really count. I was invited to some event, and this guy wouldn’t let me and my friends in, so my friend did the whole ‘don’t you know who he is?’, and it worked, because he let us in. But I never try to get free stuff or anything like that. I hate it when people do that. You make enough money, so just buy whatever the fuck you want to buy, don’t beg for it. You know?”

“Have you ever used it to try and impress someone?”

“Like you?” he laughs, a mischievous grin on his face. “Would you have even gone out with me if I wasn’t ‘Armie fucking Hammer’?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“I bet you wouldn’t even have noticed me,” he laughs, before getting up. “I’ll be right back.”

He walks off to the bathroom, and as I watch him leave, I can’t help but wonder if he was kidding just now, or if he really believes I am only going out with him because I’m a fan. Was a fan. It has turned into something else by now, right? It feels weird, calling myself a fan, when we’re going on dates, when we’re kissing, when I have just been in his room.

I feel like I should tell him, explain to him that I really like him, but when I notice the group of people walking in, I feel my blood turning cold. I recognise all of them, because these are the people I have been talking to, the people I have been avoiding, was hoping to avoid while they were in town.

I am trying to sit still, hoping they won’t notice me, but one of them has already seen me, and I know that there is no getting out of it now. Before I know it, they are all standing by my table, our table, confused looks on their faces.

“Timothée? What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell us you’d be here too?”

“I ehm…”

“When did you get here?”

“I live here,” I admit, and there is an awkward, confused silence, until one of my friends finally breaks it.

“What, you mean here in town? But you know Armie is shooting a movie here, right? Why didn’t you tell us you live here?”

“I didn’t really… you know… I know they’re in town, but…” I try to shrug it off, but I can see how confused they are, because why did I not just tell them I live here? I probably would have been just as confused if I was in their shoes.

“God, how lucky are you! I can’t believe you get to be so close to where they are filming!”

“Yeah…”

“Do you want to join us? We’ve figured out where they are filming today, so…”

“I have to work later,” I quickly say, flashing my best ‘ _I really hope Armie has just left through the backdoor, because it wouldn’t be awkward at all if he were to come back now_ ’- smile. “But maybe we can hang out later? How long are you guys staying?”

“Three days, Isabelle has to go to back tomorrow though,” one of my friends explains. “But seriously, you should have told us you were here! You can help us find our way around town, right?”

“Sure.”

“Can’t you skip work? What if we meet him, and you’re at work? You’ll totally regret it!”

“Sorry.” I shrug, still forcing myself to smile, and so far it seems to work. “I actually have to go now, so…”

“Of course. Let us know when you get off work, yeah? Maybe you can meet us for dinner!”

They walk off, and they sit down at a table, but just as I’m about to get up to go and look for Armie, he comes up to the table.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah, you go. I’ll just pay, and then I…”

“I’ve already paid.” He smiles, and he reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder, but I flinch, and he must see the panic written all over my face, because he takes a step back. “What is…”

“Oh my god!”

“Your friends?” he asks, and I nod, but before he can say more, they have already come back to our table, phones in hand, ready to ask for a selfie.

“You’re Armie Hammer, aren’t you?”

“That’s me.”

He flashes a big grin, but I can see that he feels horrible, not for himself, but for me. Because this is what I had been trying to avoid, yet here we are.

“Wait, do you guys know each other? Is that why you didn’t tell us you live here? Are you working on the movie?” one of my friends asks. “You are so lucky!”

“I’m not working on the movie, we just…”

“Why didn’t you tell us he was here?”

Because I was hoping to hide him from all of you and to keep him to myself. That’s why.

“Sorry, we… we’re friends with Timothée, and he knew we were here to meet you, so… I’m sort of confused about what is going on here. So did you guys like, know each other already?”

“I met Timmy when I went to his coffee shop,” Armie explains. “We got to talking, and we became friends. I asked him not to tell you though, because I like to keep my private life private. So it’s my fault he didn’t tell you guys.”

“Oh, right… we wouldn’t have told anyone! It’s not like, a big secret or something, right?”

“No, don’t worry.” Armie shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face. “But I have to go now.”

“Will you take a picture with us?” one of them quickly blurts out, and I can’t believe this is happening. Are they really about to take a selfie with Armie? The guy I made out with the other day? Please kill me now.

“Of course.” Armie grins, and he pulls me up to my feet, wraps an arm around my shoulder, and with his other hand, he takes the phone from the girl who had asked him for the selfie. I can see the forced smile on my face on the phone screen, but when he squeeze into my shoulder, I can’t help but laugh, because what the fuck? This can’t be real. It just can’t. These are my online friends, and this is actual Armie Hammer, the guy we’ve been obsessing over together. We’re all here, together, and for the last two weeks I have actually been hanging out with this guy. This is crazy. I am crazy. I must be. Because this can not be my life. I am the guy who is stuck in his room, writing fanfiction. I do not get to go out with some Hollywood actor. Yet here we are.

Armie says a quick goodbye, before leaving the restaurant, but I can’t leave it like this. So I make an apology to my friends, before following him out.

“Thank you, for covering for me.”

“That’s alright. Are you okay?” he asks, and I can see that he wants to reach out and touch me, but he knows that my friends are watching us, so he keeps his hands to himself, and he flashes an uncomfortable smile.

“What do I even say to them?”

“That I’m a real asshole. Always asking for free coffee. Has to stay at the best hotel in town…”

“I didn’t think…”

“Yeah, you did,” he laughs. “You assumed I was some Hollywood asshole when you first met me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Timmy!”

“Maybe a little,” I admit, the biggest grin on his face. “I should ehm…”

“Go hang out with your friends. Have fun, yeah? Stop worrying.”

“Armie?” I ask, when he turns to leave. He turns back around, and I feel my heart skip a beat when I see the way he looks at me. “I really like you, you know? Not just because you’re… you know… Armie fucking Hammer.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I am.” I nod, and I actually am. Because the guy I’ve been hanging out with, he might not be what I was expecting him to be like, but I like him. Even if he sends me stupid fucking roses, or he makes me feel like things are too good to be true. “I like you better than the guy I thought you were.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s a bit of an asshole.”

“I agree,” Armie laughs, before giving me a big hug, either ignoring my friends, or completely oblivious to their faces pressed up against the window. “I really like you too, Timmy. Now go on, go and gossip about me to your friends.”

“We don’t gossip!”

“No?” he laughs. “So what do you talk about then? My great acting skills, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I shake my head, laughing to myself. “I know it’s not my looks, so…”

“I could tell them you’re a great kisser…”

“I would love to see their reaction if you do,” he laughs, but then he sighs. “I really have to go now. I’ll talk to you later?”

I go back into the restaurant, and I join my friends, who bombard me with questions, left right and centre.

“Oh my god, you’re actually friends with him?”

“How did you even meet him?”

“Can you get him to join us for dinner tomorrow?”

“Doesn’t he smell good?”

I can’t help but laugh at the last question, and I feel myself relaxing, as my friends keep asking me questions. But they don’t seem to judge me, they don’t seem to hate me. They simply want to know about Armie, because let’s face it, they’re not here for me at all, are they?

“So how did you meet?”

“He came in for a coffee.” I shrug. “We started talking, and that’s it, really.”

No, it really isn’t. We started talking, he confessed he thought I was hot, he kissed me… Did I mention we’ve been on a couple of dates? Oh, yeah, and we made out. And he has read the stories I’ve written about him. I’m also pretty sure we are going to go on more dates, and we might take it further than making out next time. So yeah.

“How did you get him to buy you breakfast?”

“I ran into him.”

“God, you are so lucky! I would just die if Armie Hammer would hug me like that!”

Yeah, I am pretty lucky, aren’t I?

Maybe it’s time to stop waiting for the catch. Maybe he’s really just a good guy. Maybe I am just lucky.

Right?


	15. Chapter 15

**Day 15**

“I’ll be home late today.”

“Oh, another date?” my mom asks, a big smile already forming on her face. “It must be pretty serious, if…”

“No! I’m going out to dinner with my friends. You know, the people I’ve been talking to online?” I try, but I realise how that sounds. No parents are going to let their son meet up with strangers they have met online, right? “I already ran into them yesterday,” I quickly add, “I wanted to hang out with them today, but I have to work, so…”

“If you really want to spend time with your friends, I can cover for you today,” mom suggests, but no, I don’t want to spend more time with them. I don’t even know why I said that! I don’t even want to hang out with them tonight, but there was no getting out of it. Don’t get me wrong, after Armie had left, we had had a great time at the pancake restaurant, but I almost slipped up at least a dozen times. I kept trying to remember what I knew from being a fan, and what I knew from what Armie had told me. What could I say without giving it all away? And could they see through me when I talk about him? Is there some kind of ‘ _I’m trying to be casual, but yeah, I’m totally dating this guy_ ’ –vibe that I am giving off? Not that we’re ‘dating’, but we are dating. Just not, you know, dating.

“It’s fine, I can hang out with them tonight.” I shrug, before chugging down the rest of my coffee, and getting up. “Thanks.”

I quickly run up the stairs, ignoring my mom, who is asking something about my friends. But I do not want to answer any questions about them. I was willing to talk about them, and about Armie, but after the whole ‘ _he must be a look-alike_ ’- thing, I am not willing to talk to them about anything anymore. Not yet anyway. I guess I’ll have to talk to them about Armie at some point. But not today.

* * *

“It was such a shame you weren’t there today! We couldn’t actually hear what they were saying or anything, but we could see them shooting a scene, and when they were done, they came over to talk to us. Look!” one of my friends rambles, shoving her phone into my face to show the selfies she has taken with Armie and the rest of the cast today. “He is so nice! Seriously, you should have been there, Timothée!”

“Yeah… I had to work though. But at least you didn’t come all the way out here for nothing, right?”

“God, he looks so much better in real life,” another friend gushes, and you don’t have to tell me that. I’ve been staring at his face for the last two weeks. Trust me, I know how good-looking he is. “I still can’t believe you got to hang out with him.”

“I didn’t hang out with him. I served him coffee, and we ran into each other,” I chuckle awkwardly. “That’s not… you know… it’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

“He said you were.”

Right. Of course he did. Are we though?

“I think he was just trying to be nice.” I shrug, grateful when another phone gets shoved into my face.

“For real though, I am so happy we decided to come. He is so nice! He even offered to record this for you....,” another friend says, and a third phone gets shoved under my nose.

Armie appears on the screen, and fucking hell, he really is good-looking, isn’t he? I can feel a smile forming on my face, but this time I don’t even try to hide it, because I can see the glint in Armie’s eyes, the knowing grin.

_Hey man, I’m sorry you can’t be here today. Your friends are missing you. I miss you! I’ll be back for a coffee soon. See you later!_

“He was so nice, seriously, tomorrow you’ll have to come with us.”

“You’re going to see him again tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course. That’s what we’re here for,” one of my friends laughs, “So just skip work, and come with us. Please!”

“I can’t,” I laugh, but I don’t want to either. I feel uncomfortable, going with them, playing the excited fan. Because yeah, I’m still excited, and a fan of Armie’s work, but I wouldn’t be as excited as them if I were to see him, right? And I don’t want to fake it either, because it wouldn’t be fair on either my friends, or on Armie. He would probably just laugh it off, or we would be able to laugh about it together, but it just doesn’t feel right. Not anymore.

“By the way, have you read this new story?” one of my friends asks, and she starts scrolling through her phone. “It’s by some girl whose stories I hadn’t read before, but Jesus! It is one of the best things I’ve read in a long time.”

“What’s it called?”

I know I haven’t read it, because lately I’ve been too caught up in actual Armie Hammer to read fanfiction about fictional Armie Hammer. Not too caught up in him to write fanfiction though, but let’s not mention that, because my friends don’t actually know that.

“I can’t remember, but it’s by… Coffeesomething?”

Coffeesomething? Please tell me she isn’t talking about CoffeeShopStoryteller. Please let there be a writer who is actually called Coffeesomething.

But when she shows me her phone, and I see my avatar, next to my latest story, the ‘ _Armie sucking my dick in his New York loft_ ’ story, I can feel my cheeks starting to burn.

“Seriously, she is amazing!” my friend continues. “The way she describes Armie giving a blowjob… you should definitely read it. I’ll send you the link.”

“Yeah… do that.”

What the fuck?

“Are you talking about the New York blowjob story?” another friend asks. “Oh my god, have you read it?”

No, for fuck sake I haven’t read it! I wrote it! Armie dared me to write it. This is my jerk-off fantasy, and it was only supposed to be out there for him to read. So what the actual fuck?

“Do we know if she is a member of our group? If not, we should totally invite her. I haven’t had the time yet, but I’ll definitely be reading her other work too. Because that story is just… damn, it is hot!”

“How do you know it’s a she?” a friend asks, and all my other friends look at him. “It could be a guy, right?”

“How many guys do you know who write fanfiction?” a girl laughs. “And if they do, it wouldn’t have been this good. It probably would have been a quick fuck, or…”

“So you’re saying that guys can’t write about blowjobs?” the guy laughs, “I’m telling you, this CoffeeShopStoryteller, it could be a guy.”

“Is it you?” a friend laughs, so I quickly turn into her direction, because no, it’s not me. Definitely not. I don’t write fanfiction, and especially not about Armie Hammer sucking my dick. I have never written a story in my life. I don’t even want him to suck my dick!

But she is daring the guy, who just shakes his head, laughing.

“It’s a girl, for sure,” the girl laughs, “and we should totally invite her to the group.”

“Did any of you read more of her work?”

“No, but when I get home, I’ll definitely be reading the rest!”

Reading the rest? Armie’s comment flashes through my mind, so I quickly take my phone out of my pocket, and I scroll through my stories, making sure the others won’t see, and I find the comment Armie had left.

_I loved some of your other work, but this is your best work so far, Timmy! One note though; I don’t, for one second, believe Armie would be drinking a double espresso. I think he would go for something a bit more sweet. Something a bit more sparkly? ;-)_

I wish I could let it stay there, but he called me Timmy, and if these people are going to go through my other stories, and they find his comment, it won’t take long for them to put two and two together. So I take a screenshot, because even though I’m pretty sure that I can’t forget about this comment, even if I try, I still want to save it, just in case my memory ever decides to bail on me. Or if I start doubting this whole situation again. Because it’s still too good to be true. Right?

“Oh my god, she’s online!” one of my friends says, and I see a notification bubble popping up. I click on it, expecting to find a new comment, but it’s a chat message, and to be honest, I didn’t even know the fanfiction website had a chat option. But someone is chatting to me? Right now?

“I just sent her a message, asking her if she’s in the group!”

Well, fuck.

“What is she saying?” another friend asks, but ‘she’ is not saying anything, because ‘she’ is freaking out. What do I do? Tell them I’m already in the group, then hide my real name? Tell them I’m not interested? Ignore them?

“Oh my god, what if it’s one of us?” one of my friends laughs. “Look, we’re all on our phones. So what if one of us is CoffeeShopStoryteller?”

“It’s not me, you know I don’t write smut. Besides, you know what my account is.”

“Or it’s a secret account,” a friend laughs. “Seriously though, what if it’s someone we know?”

“What if it’s Armie?” another friend guesses, and before I know it, they are throwing out names of all the people he has worked with, all the girls he has been spotted with. I even throw out a name or two as well, because as long as they are this far off, it means they won’t figure out it’s me. And slowly but surely, the conversation turns to the movie Armie is working on right now, so I put my phone back into my pocket, still not having replied to my friend’s question. But we’ll get to that later. Or not.


	16. Chapter 16

**Day 16**

Today was a good day. I woke up feeling happy, relaxed. I was even feeling relaxed at work, even after a group of teenagers had come in, all ordering something off the ‘secret menu’, which isn’t actually a thing. They were just ordering our usual drinks, but adding a whole lot of extra syrup and sparkles. But whatever. I was happy to do as they asked. I even caught myself smiling, as I watched them posing for their selfies with their sparkly bright-colored drinks.

But then my online friends showed up at the shop. Of course they did.

I was hoping they wouldn’t find out about Armie’s picture being taken here, but like I said, if they want to find out something, they will not give up until they know. So they had come in, phones in hand, and I could hear the loud squeeling as they realised that they had finally found the right place.

I was hoping that that would be it. They would maybe touch the table he had sat at, take a selfie in his seat, then leave again. They wouldn’t notice me, and I would never see them again. But no.

They had noticed me, and of course I had no other choice but to confirm that the picture was indeed taken in our shop. That this is where Armie had gotten his coffee, that this is where we had met. I know they were only excited, but it felt like they were stepping into my life. Not our ‘being fans together’ life, but my own, private life, outside of all of that. This shop, the time I have spent here with Armie, it feels like it’s mine, and mine alone, so to have them here, it feels intrusive. But I can’t kick them out, can I?

“We should have our lunch here instead,” one of my friends suggests. “What did Armie order?”

“Oh, he ehm…”

“Yeah, we should have what he had!”

“The chocolate and vanilla cheesecake,” I quickly say, “and I think it was a vanilla latte.”

Unicorn surprise and a slice of cake. Green, if I remember correct. Berries and white chocolate.

“Great, we’ll have that!” one of my friends smiles, and I try my best not to show her that I really don’t want them here. So I take their money, and I tell them to sit down. Luckily Armie’s table is too small for them, so they sit down by the window, happily chatting away about Armie, about how nice he had been when they had met him yesterday. About how hot he is. I try not to listen, but they are the only ones in the shop, except for an elderly couple, who are both busy reading their books, so all I can hear are their voices.

“I wish we didn’t have to go home already.”

“I know, right? How great would it be to live here? Imagine being able to go see him every day?”

Go see him every day? Yeah, that is definitely bordering on stalking. But I know they are just excited, and they would probably get bored of it after a day or four. Still, I can’t help but smile, as they go on and on about how great he is. Because after they’ve gone home, I get to hang out with him again. I get to go on a date with him. I get to kiss him, to… well, kiss him. Let’s stick to that for now.

“You’ll let us know if he comes back here, right?”

“Of course!”

Of course not.

“You’re so lucky you get to be in the same town as him,” one of my friends says, a big pout on her face. And yeah, I guess I am. In the same town, same shop, same bed… hopefully… one day. But yeah, definitely lucky.

“Next time he comes in, you’ll have to ask him if he wants to join our group,” one of my friends suggests. “I was going to ask him, but when we met I totally freaked out. I didn’t even remember my own name,” she admits. “But how awesome would it be if he’s in our group?”

Not awesome at all. What is he going to do, watch how all of us are freaking out over a new picture of him that one of us has dug out from someone’s social media? Join in on the gossiping about his love life? I mean, he did read fanfiction about himself, so I wouldn’t put it past him. But no. He is not joining our group.

“I’ll ask him.”

No, I won’t.

* * *

“So, have they gone home?” Armie asks, when I join him at his usual table, long after the shop has closed. I hand him a drink I have come up with while I was trying to pass the time, and a slice of purple pineapple cake, and when he bites into it, I see a huge smile forming on his face.

“It’s good, right?” I laugh, but he just nods, before taking another bite. “They left this afternoon.”

“So the coast is clear?” He grins, as he slides his hand onto my thigh. The touch makes me jump, and I feel like a total idiot when he starts laughing. “Don’t worry, man, I didn’t mean to…”

“Do you want another slice?” I quickly ask, and I jump off out of my seat, nearly knocking over my drink. Armie notices how nervous I am, and I can hear him laughing at me, but I ignore it, and I go to the cake display, but when I hear his voice again, when I definitely recognise the words he is saying, the cake is quickly forgotten about.

_“Armie grabs hold of Ben’s dick, and he flashes a big, confident grin, before taking it into his mouth. Ben has had his dick sucked before, but those guys had no idea what they were doing. Armie sure seems to know what he is doing, because…”_

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!!

“You read that?” I ask, and obviously he has! He is reading it out loud for fuck sake! My dream, my jerk-off fantasy, my story, he is actually reading it out loud. That’s it. I am never writing another word again.

“It’s good.” He grins. “I was going to leave a comment, but…,” he looks down at his phone, “this is more fun, isn’t it?”

“Fun?” I ask, my voice coming out all wrong. “I thought you hadn’t read it. I thought you wanted me to write it, but then you didn’t say anything about it, so…”

“Oh, I read it.” He grins, his eyes still focussed on his phone. “So this is the ehm… the alien dream, huh?”

Never. Writing. Again.

“Please tell me you’ll stop reading them.”

“Why? I like your writing, it’s good! It’s interesting,” he laughs, finally looking up again.

“It’s embarrassing!”

“No, it’s not,” he laughs. “Have you read these comments? This is good, Timmy.”

“But it’s about you, and…”

“You?” he suggests, my heart almost beating out of my chest by now, and I’m not sure if I’m ever going to recover from this. How can I?

“Just stop reading them, it’s too weird.”

“So you didn’t write this for me?”

He has a daring grin on his face, and yeah, I guess I did write it for him to read. But I was expecting him to leave a comment, or to send a text. I didn’t think we’d have to do this face to face, did I?

“Don’t worry, man, it’s fine,” he laughs, as he puts his phone back into his pocket. I can’t face him any longer though, so I turn back to the cake display, and I take forever to pick up another slice of cake, but by the time I have put it on the plate, I feel his hands grabbing onto my hips, his mouth kissing the back of my neck. And even though I could have hit him just a minute ago for embarrassing me like that, his kisses are making me weak at the knees.

“Timmy?” he whispers into my ear, as he pulls me back against his body, the feeling of his body against mine enough to make my thoughts run wild.

“Mhm?”

“Want to see if I’m really that good?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I just want to start off by apologising. (Again?)  
> After the last chapter, I know that some of you are expecting some smut, but this is not that kind of story. Sorry!  
> I should also apologise for the rest of this chapter, but let's keep that 'happy ending' tag in mind, shall we? O:)  
> Xx

**Day 17**

Last night did not actually happen. Armie Hammer did not show up at the shop, and he did not read my own story to me. And he definitely did not take me into the storeroom to suck my dick.

Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.

But he did. He actually sucked my dick. Armie Hammer sucked my dick. I know I said I had stopped freaking out about what was going on between us, but I take it back. Because I am freaking out right now. Because what the actual fuck? That kind of stuff does not happen! Not to me, at least.

It was really late by the time I got home last night, so I didn’t have to see my parents, but when I tried to go to sleep, my head was too full of what had just happened. So I had gotten out of bed, and I had grabbed my laptop. I had started writing, and before I knew it, I had written down what had happened. I wasn’t planning on writing it down, but I’m not going to lie, writing it down, putting it into a story, it had helped. The whole Armie sucking a guy’s dick in the storeroom, it wasn’t about me anymore, but now it was about ‘Armie’ and ‘Jamie’. It almost felt like it hadn’t happened at all. I had made it all up.

But now that I am staring down at the story, which I stupidly, at four this morning, had actually posted, I feel like an idiot. Last night writing it might have helped, but right now it really isn’t helping that I have put it out there. It is not helping to see the dozens of comments, telling me how great it is. Because this is not like my other story, this was not some dream, or a jerk-off fantasy. This had actually happened.

I almost delete it, but one of the comments catches my eye, and as much as I am telling myself that I am imagining it, that this really is just some anonymous comment from some random person out in who knows where, we all know who it’s from, don’t we?

_Anonymous : Love your work. Can’t wait to see what you’ll be writing about next. ;-)_

I asked him to stop reading my stories, and he told me would, didn’t he? He did agree, right? I thought he did, but now that I’m trying to think back to last night, trying not to let my thoughts go straight to what had happened in the storeroom, I don’t think he actually agreed at all. He had just laughed it off. Fucking…

My phone buzzes, and I pick it up, hoping it’s some ad notification, or that it’s letting me know that it needs to be charged. But of course it’s a text from Armie, which is just the thing I want to see right now. Because I’m not feeling like a fucking idiot at all, putting it out there for everyone to read, what had happened between us last night. I don’t even care that people are reading it, it’s not like people care if they find out I actually had my dick sucked in the storeroom. But this is Armie’s story too, and I feel terrible for betraying him like that. Because he has been nothing but nice to me, more than nice, and I do this to him? He deserves better.

So I open the text, ready to face whatever it is that he has to say to me. I can take it.

_Hey man, want to have breakfast together?_

What?

I was preparing myself for the absolute worst, and I was definitely not expecting this, so it takes me a minute to actually wrap my head around it. But maybe he wants to tell me off, face to face. He would be that kind of guy, right? He would dump someone face to face, not over the phone. Not that I’m about to be dumped, because we’re not actually anything yet, but yeah, it definitely feels like I’m about to be dumped. And it’s my own stupid fault.

I know I’ve said it before, but I really have got to stop writing.

* * *

Armie is already waiting by the door when I get to his place. I guess he wants to get it over quickly then.

“I…”

“Come on in. We’ve been filming all night, so let me take a quick shower, yeah?”

Why is he not yelling at me? He isn’t planning on dumping me in public, is he? Because as much as I know I deserve it, I will definitely cry. It’s Armie fucking Hammer, and I could have actually had a chance with him. So yeah, there will definitely be tears.

“I read your latest story,” he says, as soon as we’re in his room. I guess we’re doing this here then. “I mean, I knew it was good, but I didn’t know it was that good,” he laughs, as he turns to face me. “Are you really that into the…”

“Please don’t,” I quickly say, but he just laughs, shaking his head. “I didn’t know… I mean… you weren’t going to read it anymore, and then last night when I got home, I was freaking out, so I…”

“You were freaking out? Why?”

“Because you sucked my dick, Armie!” I spit out, but it only makes him laugh again. “I’m sorry I wrote it, okay?”

“Why?” He shrugs. “It’s what you do, right?”

“No! I write fiction, not… why are you not angry with me?” I ask, “I messed up!”

“No, you wrote another story.”

“Yeah, about what we did.”

“Do you want me to get angry? Is that why you wrote it?” he asks, the smile slowly leaving his face. “Look, I don’t care, man.”

“Why not?” I hear myself asking, and I really want to stop, but I can feel myself starting to freak out again. I can feel my nerves, my anxiety about this whole situation starting to come to the service, and no matter how hard I am trying to keep it all in, I know that I am about to fuck this up. For real, this time. “Why are you not angry with me? Why are you not freaking out about last night? About this fucking story that I wrote about it?”

“Because that stuff doesn’t matter to me. I know it’s what you do, Timmy, and I like you, so if you want to write stories, then…”

“Don’t you get how fucked up that is?”

Please stop. Just shut up, accept that he likes you, and let it go. Just stop.

“I am a fan, Armie!” I spit out, the words still coming out like word-vomit, but I would even rather be vomiting for real right now. Because this is bad. The worst, actually. “I am a fan, who writes fucking fanfiction about you, so how can…”

“Do you want me to freak out?” he asks, looking hurt, but calm. I’m not calm though, I can feel my face burning, the tears stinging in my eyes, and the fact that he is staying so calm, it makes it a thousand times worse.

“Yes! I want you to freak out! Because this is really fucking weird. Don’t you get that?”

“I do.” He nods. “But I like you, man, and I like hanging out with you.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he asks, a small smile forming on his lips, but then he sighs. “Because the first time I saw you, I knew I had to get to know you. I felt this… whatever you want to call it, and yeah it’s pretty weird, knowing that you’re a fan, but… Fuck!” he spits out, and I wonder if this is the moment where he is going to explode, where he is finally no longer able to hold back. But he just looks hurt, and for a moment I think he is about to start crying, before he composes himself again. “I hate that word, man. Why can’t we just be two guys who like each other?”

“Because we’re not. You’re Armie…”

“Yeah. I’m ‘Armie fucking Hammer’,” he says, not even trying to hide how hurt he is. “Look, I like you, Timmy, and I can look past all that other shit. But if you want me to back off, just tell me. I’d rather know now, then…”

“I want you to want to back off.”

“So you want me to back off?” he asks, a confused look on his face.

“No, but I want you to want to back off,” I try again, “Because none of this makes sense. You’re a Hollywood actor, and I’m just…”

“You know what, man?” he interrupts me, “I don’t give a fuck what you get up to online. Do you think I give a fuck about people knowing that I sucked your dick, huh?” he spits out. “You’re the one who wanted to hide from your friends, who didn’t want them to know that we hang out together. You are the one freaking out about this. Not me!”

“But…”

“No, from day one I have been honest with you. I told you I liked you, and I want to keep spending time with you. But if you are going to keep seeing me as some Hollywood actor, instead of who I actually am, then I am done.”

“But can’t you see how weird it is?”

Seriously, Timothée, stop! Go up to him, kiss him, tell him you’re sorry.

“You’re right. It’s too weird. So maybe it’s best if you leave.”

Great job. Armie Hammer was willing to give you a chance, even after everything, and you had to go and ruin it. You couldn’t settle for nice and happy, you had to add drama. Well, guess what, this isn’t one of your fucking stories, Timothée. This can’t be fixed with a grand gesture in a next chapter. This is your own fucking life you have just fucked up. So great job.

I am kicking myself, as I leave Armie’s room, as I walk past the park, the tears streaming down my face, as I remember our picnic. All I want to do is go back and apologise, but what would I even say to him? How the fuck can I fix what had just happened in there?


	18. Chapter 18

**Day 18**

I have spent the whole night writing up texts, trying to explain to Armie what had happened. But how can I explain to him why I freaked out? What is there to explain? So every single text had gotten deleted, and by the time my alarm goes off, I am still staring at my phone, trying to think of a way to fix what I have done. But I know that this is not something that can be fixed with a grand gesture. I had even considered sending him flowers, hoping that he would think it funny, and he would forgive me. But that’s not how it works, is it? Besides, he deserves more than some fucking roses. He deserves more than me freaking out, to be honest.

I am so focussed on staring at the screen, that I almost drop my phone when a text from Armie shows up. As much as I want to see what he has to say, I also don’t want to know. Because I am just not ready for him to say goodbye. Not yet. But I know I will have to face it, so I open his text, preparing myself for the worst, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I read those three simple words.

_Can we talk?_

Does this mean that he is willing to give me another chance? Or does he want to say goodbye in person? I don’t get a chance to freak out again though, because another message pops up.

_Can you meet me at mine?_

I quickly send him a text back, saying I will be there in half an hour, before throwing my phone onto my desk, and getting up to get ready. But I am so nervous, that I put my shirt on the wrong way around first, and not only that, I even forget to brush my teeth. Luckily I realise, just before I am about to run out of the house. So after I have brushed my teeth, I grab my phone, and I leave, hoping I won’t be late. Because I’m sure that would do the situation anything but good.

When I get to the house, he is sitting on the sidewalk, already waiting for me, but when I open my mouth to apologise for almost being late, he gets up, and he steps up to me. For a split-second, I think he is going to fight me, but when I see the tears in his eyes, before he wraps his arms around me, I realise just how much yesterday has hurt him.

“I am so sorry,” I mumble, but Armie just pulls me closer. “I didn’t mean…”

“Yeah, you did,” he sighs, kissing the top of my head before letting go of me. “Want to go to the park?”

“Sure.” I nod, and I follow him to the place where we had had a picnic, just days before. It makes me feel sick, knowing how happy we had been that day, and how I have fucked it all up. But I don’t know what to say to him, so I just sit there, staring down at my hands, unable to face him. I am almost wishing for him to get it over with, so I can go home and cry myself to sleep, but when he nudges my leg, I have no choice but to look up at him.

“Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he says, but what does he have to be sorry for? I’m the one who freaked out and messed up. He has done nothing wrong. He has been nothing but perfect. “You still see me as the guy from the movies, don’t you?”

“No!” I say, but it comes out too quickly. “Yeah, sometimes. Not when we’re together like this, but then I start thinking about things, and I realise just who you are, and I just… I feel like none of this is real, because you’re an actor, and I’m…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Armie sighs. “I am just like you. I am just a normal guy. Well, I wouldn’t say normal, but…”

“You’re not though, are you? You’re an actor, and you’re famous. People know you.”

“So?” Armie asks. “I have feelings, just like everyone else. But you are so caught up in this guy that you have been writing about, that it feels like I am competing with him. I feel like I can’t live up to what you’re expecting of me.”

“No, that isn’t…”

“I thought we could get past it,” he goes on, and all I want to do is apologise again, tell him he doesn’t have to say anything else, because with every word I feel like I am getting kicked in the gut. But I keep quiet, and I let him explain, “But as long as you keep holding onto that version of me, this isn’t going to work. I am not him, Timmy.”

“I know. But you are him though,” I try to explain. “You are the guy that I’ve been writing about, and whose movies I’ve been watching. That was you, Armie.”

“Yeah, but when you watch my movies, or you see me doing an interview, you see me doing my job. That is not who I am in real life. You, and your friends, you don’t know me, just because you’ve heard some things I said in an interview. You don’t know me because of some stuff my old classmates have said about me,” Armie says, the hurt still written all over his face. “You have no idea what I am like when I am at home, or when I’m with my friends, or my family. You just know that I’m an actor, that’s it.”

“I guess…”

“I want us to get to know each other, Timmy, because I really like you,” Armie admits, my heart skipping a beat when I hear him say those words, even after what had happened yesterday.

“I want that too,” I say, but I feel like I have to be honest with him, because if I’m not, surely it will be no time before we will have a repeat of yesterday’s events. “I am sorry, okay? I like you too, but I am struggling to separate you from the guy I am… was, a fan of. You have got to understand how weird this is for me, right?”

“I do, but I think I have been pretty straight-forward with you, haven’t I? It’s not fair when you tell me that this is ‘fucked up’, or that you want me to freak out. Because yeah, I know how weird it is. You think I haven’t thought about any of this? I want to keep my private life private, and I’m not talking about hiding things or keeping this a secret, but I don’t want to have every single detail of my life discussed in some fan group. I don’t want to share things with you, only to find out that you have been sharing it with your friends.”

“So when I wrote that story…”

“That is different, man. It’s fiction, even if it wasn’t,” Armie says, looking uncomfortable. “I mean it, Timmy, if you want to write your stories, I don’t care. I am talking about my private life, our relationship, not…”

“A blowjob in the storeroom?” I suggest, and the words bring the biggest grin to his face. “I am really sorry I freaked out.”

“I know. I’m sorry too.”

“Are we okay?” I ask, nervously reaching out for his hand. He grabs onto it, but his hand is clammy, and when I hear him sigh, I close my eyes, because I know I won’t be able to face him when he tells me that this is over.

“I don’t know, man,” he sighs. “You know that I want to be with you, but if you feel like you can’t get over this, then I think it’s best if we end it now. Maybe we can try to be friends, but…”

I open my eyes, and I squeeze into his hand, nodding frantically.

“I can get over it. I promise, I…”

“Timmy…”

“No, I mean it. I know I fucked up, okay? But I am trying. I like you, not the guy I write about, but you, the guy I have been hanging out with. And I am sorry for getting it so wrong, but I really am trying. But sometimes I just…”

“What?”

“I remember seeing you with all those women, and then you were talking about trying new things…”

“You think this is me trying out something new?” Armie asks, and I am just about to kick myself for bringing it up. Because all I had to do was tell him I could get over it, and that was that. But no. “I have never been with a guy before,” he admits, and what? Was I right? “but that doesn’t mean that I am just trying something out here. I really like you, Timmy. I am not confused, I am not trying something out because I’m bored, or I’m…”

“What about those women?”

“Most of them are just colleagues.” Armie shrugs. “Some were friends… You know that’s how it works, right? Part of promoting a new project begins long before we even start making the movie. Getting pictured together, it means that there will be something written about you, about your new project… it’s part of the job.”

He must be noticing the disappointed look on my face, because he nudges me in the arm, a small, embarrassed smile on his face.

“Disappointed?”

“No!”

“Yeah, you are!” he laughs. “You thought I was better than that?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble, but you know what? Yes, I am disappointed. I think I would have preferred to have him say that he had slept with all those women, than finding out that it was all fake, and done for publicity.

“I hate it,” Armie admits. “Don’t get me wrong, I love acting, I love being a part of creating something, but…” He shakes his head, his clammy hand still on mine. “I hate everything that comes with it.”

“So why do it?”

I hear how it is coming out, and I almost apologise, but when Armie nudges me in the arm again, flashing a knowing smile, I know that he knows why I don’t like it.

“It comes with the job. When you get the job, you sign a contract, and you’d be surprised how much of it usually is about promotion, rather than the actual movie. I was given a job once, and they wanted me to leak a nude picture, just to get the project out there.”

Wait, there is a nude picture of Armie out there? Where is it? Why have I not seen this?

“So I walked away from the project,” Armie continues, and fuck him! No, I take that back. He was right for refusing. But still. Fuck him. I would much rather have seen a nude picture of him than to see him with all those women.

“I told you, man, just because you’ve read stuff about me online, that doesn’t mean you know me. Half of those interviews are rehearsed beforehand, written interviews are edited so much that I doubt any of those words are even mine. And those women…”

“So who did you go out with?”

“I have never dated one of my colleagues. The only women I have ever dated, I met through friends. I would never date an actress.”

“How about an actor?” I ask, and he sighs, knowing fully well what I am asking him.

“I don’t know, man. I have never wanted to be with a guy before. I had never even kissed a guy until I had to for work. I don’t know what I am, what label I should use… if I even want to use one… this is new to me, okay?” he admits. “But I do know that I like you, and maybe that means that I am gay. I don’t know.” He shrugs, before a small smile forms on his lips. “I don’t care.”

“And if people find out?” I ask, but he just laughs, before taking a look around him. “I’m not talking about my neighbours, I’m talking about the people you work with, your fans, your family…”

“No one has to find out about this,” he says, but when he sees the hurt look on my face, he quickly flashes a smile. “Not until _you_ are ready, Timmy.”

“Until I stop freaking out?”

“Exactly.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Day 19**

I can feel Armie’s eyes burning a hole in me as I am getting him a slice of cake, and for a moment I remember what had happened the last time we were in this situation. I doubt we will end up in the storeroom tonight though, because although we had made up yesterday, it feels like we have been set back a dozen steps, or in our case, a good few days. I still feel him staring at me though, and by the time I hand him his orange pistachio cake, I can feel my cheeks burning.

“What?” I laugh, his eyes still on me when I sit down.

“In all this time you haven’t asked me about the movie once,” he says, but by the smile on his face I can tell that this is not a bad thing. So I hold back my apology, curious to see where this is going. “You haven’t asked me about the people I’m working with, you’re not trying to come to set…”

“And..?” I chuckle nervously.

“You keep saying you’re a fan, and I’m sure you are,” he quickly adds, “but didn’t you notice anything when your friends were here?”<

“Not really?”

That they were even more excited in real life than online? That they were perfectly fine with stalking Armie? That they are apparently a fan of my writing?

“You are nothing like them,” Armie explains. “Don’t get me wrong, they were really nice, but we couldn’t get them to leave us alone. They were just there, staring, trying to get a glimpse… Did they tell you they followed us when we went out for lunch?”

“They did?” I ask, unable to hide back a chuckle. Because I can’t say I’m surprised.

“You haven’t asked me about any of it. Not once.”

“Yeah, because…”

“Because it’s only my work?” he teases. “Just like I won’t ask you what drinks you made every night?”

Fuck. Is he right? I knew that something about me being a fan had changed since we had met, but I figured that since I was still in the group, and I am still writing those stories about him, I was just like my friends. I had noticed that I was less enthusiastic, but I had put it down to already having met Armie. I hadn’t even realised that I hadn’t acted like them, not even when we had first met. I hadn’t asked him for a selfie, like my mom told me to do, I hadn’t asked him about the movie, I hadn’t asked him to take me to set. Although now that I am thinking about it, I wouldn’t mind being there, just to get to watch him do his thing. But even as the thought crosses my mind, it feels like I would be watching Armie working, I wouldn’t be watching ‘Armie fucking Hammer’. It would just be Armie, the guy who is staring at me with a knowing grin on his face.

“I do like your work,” I say, but it only makes him laugh. “and I do still think you’re hot.”

Way to go, Timothée. Smooth. Very smooth.

“I hope so,” he laughs, before leaning in, and pressing his lips against mine. But when he leans back, he has a disappointed look on his face, and I am almost starting to wonder if the kiss was that bad? “I have to work all day tomorrow, but I was thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“I saw something about a midnight screening of this old movie…”

“Rebel Without a Cause?” I ask, unable to hide the excitement in my voice. “Have you ever seen it?”

“Not that I remember, but I’ve heard it’s good.”

“How can you… you’re an actor! How can you not have seen it?”

“I don’t know. How about we go see it together?” he suggests, and I don’t even care that it’s a midnight screening, and I have to start early the next day. It’s not like I haven’t got enough coffee there to keep me awake, right?

“Do I need to bring snacks?”

* * *

“What has got you so happy?” mom asks, as soon as I walk through the door. She grabs my plate from the oven, and sets it down, before sitting down at the kitchen table, having gotten so used to me coming home late, that she doesn’t even set my place anymore. She just puts my food in the oven, and whatever time I get home, I take it out, and I usually eat it up in my room. Not today though, because I sit down with my mom, and she grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Are you still seeing the boy who sent you the flowers?”

“Mhm.”

“I haven’t seen you like this since… gosh, I don’t think I have ever seen you in love,” she admits, and yeah, she’s right. I have never been in love before, but I’m not sure I’m in love with Armie either. It’s a bit soon for that, isn’t it? I mean, sure, I want to be with him, and I feel a constant fluttering in my stomach when I catch him staring at me, and when he kisses my neck… okay, so maybe I’m in love. I think. Maybe.<

So maybe I’m also in denial about it.

“Can we meet him?”

“Not yet. He is…” Armie Hammer. Hollywood actor. The guy you told me I couldn’t possibly have gone on a date with. “It’s a long story.”

“I have all night.”

“I know,” I laugh, but then I sigh, and she squeezes my hand again. “But he’s not just any guy, mom.”

“Are you scared we won’t approve of him?”

“No. You are going to love him. Everyone does.”

Everyone. That’s the problem, isn’t it?

“Is he good to you?” mom asks, but when the smile takes over my face, she nods. “I’m happy for you, Tim, so is your dad.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” She smiles, before pressing a kiss to my cheek. “But we do want to meet him.”

“You will. But not yet.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Day 20**

I hadn’t heard from Armie all day, and I was almost beginning to think he had forgotten that we had agreed to go to the movies, but just as I was about to go to bed, I had gotten a text from him, saying he was on his way to come and pick me up.

I was not ready for him to meet my parents though, so within seconds, I was fully dressed again, and on my way to meet him. Don’t get me wrong, I am sure he would be his charming self, and my parents would fall in love with him as soon as they’d meet him, but there is something about that meeting that scares the living daylights out of me. Because once they meet, it becomes real, doesn’t it? I mean, I know it’s real. I think we have established that by now. But meeting the parents is a big deal, and now that I am thinking about it, what happens when I meet his parents? I have never actually done the whole ‘meeting the parents’ thing before, but I sure as hell know that I am not ready for it!

“Hey!” Armie laughs, when I almost bump into him, so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice him. “I was just coming to pick you up.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d come meet you.”

“Wow, you really don’t want your parents to find out about me, do you?” he laughs, and I am about to make some excuse, but what would be the point? By now I’m pretty sure he knows me better than I know myself.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll meet them when the time is right.”

He wraps his arms around my waist, and he pulls me in for a kiss, either ignoring the group of women walking by, who don’t even hide the fact that they are staring at us, or he is completely oblivious to it.

“Armie?” I ask, his arms still wrapped around my waist, and when he leans in to kiss my neck, I almost forget what I was going to ask. But when I hear the women’s footsteps again, I free myself from his grip, and he nods, already seeing where this is going. “What happens if people find out?”

“I don’t care, Timmy.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking, what happens?” I ask, but he just shrugs. “Will you have to say something about me? Will you have to deny it? Are you even allowed to do this?”

“Make out with the guy I like?” he asks, a mischievous grin on his face. “I don’t know, man. I told you, this is new to me too, so if it does come out before we’re ready… we’ll just have to see how we deal with it, right?”

The fact that he says that _we_ will deal with it, not that _he_ will deal with it, it somehow makes me feel better. Like we are really in this together, and he is willing to include me in that part of his life too. I just hope it doesn’t come to that though, because I am okay with my neighbours seeing us. Okay, I’m not. Not really. I want to keep this to myself. But I can’t expect us to spend the rest of our time together, hidden away at the shop, can I? So I can accept my neighbours seeing us. But I am not ready for this to become some kind of public something, with people talking about me and finding out who I am. So let’s try and keep it between us for now.

“Are you ready to go see this movie?”

“Definitely. I can’t believe you have never seen it! Did you know that they…”

* * *

After the movie had ended, Armie had suggested we’d go for a walk. I hadn’t told him that I had to start work early, and that if I didn’t go to bed soon, I would probably not be able to get more than an hour sleep. But I also wasn’t going to pass up on the chance to spend more time with him, was I? Because although I am not exactly sure how long he’ll be in town for, I’m pretty sure I read that they wouldn’t be filming here for more than a month. Seeing as it’s been three weeks already, I am more than aware that our time together is about to run out. So yeah, I’ll go without sleep tonight. I’ll go without sleep for another week, if it means that we will have just that little more time together.

“It’s beautiful here,” Armie says, when we pass the park. “Imagine if we could do this every night.”

“What? Go to the park?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, but even in the dark I can see the blush on his face, as he grabs my hand. “Go to a movie… go for a walk… do whatever we want to do.”

“We’ll probably have to do it through a video call,” I chuckle, but when he stops walking, I realise that maybe this is going beyond the park looking like a magical wonderland with the fairy lights that someone had put up for their birthday celebration the other week.

“I mean it, Timmy. What if we could do this every night?”

“We can’t.”

“We could.”

“How?” I laugh, because what the fuck is he saying? “You live… I don’t even know where you live, but you can’t come here every time you want to go for a walk.”

“I won’t have to, not if I live here.”

“But you don’t…”

What is happening? Did he not show up, and am I asleep right now? Is this one of those dreams, where everything seems normal, then before you know it, a car starts talking, the world starts collapsing, aliens… and I mean actual aliens this time. I mean, it’s not like Armie is actually talking about what it would be like to live here, right?

“You know, I have gotten so used to my life out there, that I didn’t realise how empty it is. Not until I came here. Life here, it’s…”

“Boring.”

“No! I like this quiet life, where we go out for breakfast together, where we know our neighbours, and we go to the park for picnics. I like how ‘normal’ everything feels here.”

“Normal? You think these last three weeks have been normal?” I laugh. “If this is your normal, then…”

“You know what I mean, Timmy. This is the life I want to have.”

“Until you go back to work.”

“I guess…”

“You’d get bored if you were stuck here for another month,” I laugh, but even I can hear how fake it sounds. Because what the actual fuck? “Trust me, you’ll be glad to go home.”

“I’m going to miss the cakes though.”

“I can send you some?”

“I’d like that.”

He flashes a smile, but there is something in his smile that tells me that this is not the first time he has thought about this. That this thought about living here was not some spur of the moment comment, but something that he has possibly, probably, already thought through. I can’t help but wonder where he thought it would go though. Because I can only see it going one way, and that is Armie going home, me still stuck at the coffee shop, writing my stories.

* * *

“I should ehm…”

“Go inside?” he laughs, when we have finally made it to my house, the sky already starting to change color. “I was thinking…”

“What?”

“How about you show me the place where you have written all those stories?”

“You want to see my room?” I ask, my voice coming out all wrong, because yes, of course I have fantasised about Armie being in my room, my bed even. But those were fantasies. I’m not sure if I actually want him there.

Fuck it, who am I kidding? Of course I want Armie in my room. But it’s my parents’ house, and if Armie comes in now, when is he supposed to leave without them finding out?

I guess we’ll have to find out later, because I am already leading Armie up to the house.

“Be quiet, okay? If my parents find out you’re here…”

“Don’t worry. I won’t make a sound.” He grins, and I am half-expecting him to start shouting out his hellos as soon as we’re through the door. But he follows me up to my room, not saying a word, and it isn’t until I close the door behind us, that he opens his mouth again.

“So this is it, huh?”

“I’ll get my own place, eventually…”

“No, it’s… it’s nice.”

“For a five-year old.” I roll my eyes, kicking myself for never painting over the car wallpaper, or getting a new clock, replacing the superhero one. “It’s not exactly…”

“A five-star hotel?” he teases, as he wraps his arms around my waist, before bringing his mouth down to my neck. He seems to know exactly what he is doing, because just as my knees are starting to get wobbly, his grip tightens, and he brings his mouth up to my ear.

“Want to go to bed?”

“You want to stay here?” I ask, my voice definitely not a whisper anymore, as I free myself from his grip. “But…”

“I’m sorry, man, I thought…,” he quickly says, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because I have already kissed him. Fuck it if my parents find out he’s here. Armie Hammer wants to spend the night here, with me, in my room. I am not going to send him home now, am I?


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who is still reading this story. I know I'm shit at replying to comments, and I keep apologising for it, but I don't think I'll ever get any better at it. So I'll just have to say thank you like this!  
> When I started writing this story just over two months ago, I had no idea where it was going to go. I'm used to writing, finishing and then editing a story a dozen times, then I'll keep it to myself for a while, and only then do I post it. So I was a little nervous about posting something as I was still writing it, but I have to say that it has been great. I have loved all the feedback and the comments, and they have pushed me to keep on writing. I have actually managed to write ahead, and I am almost done writing now. I think. But who knows what will happen between now and those chapters? I might still change my mind and change it all up (I wouldn't be surprised.) But seriously, thank you so much!  
> Xx

**Day 21**

Somehow I had managed to set my alarm before I had gone to bed last night, or rather, not even two hours ago. But I must have slept through it, because it’s the knocking on my door that wakes me up, that, together with my mom yelling at me to wake up.

I feel Armie’s arm sliding around my waist, his mouth already on the back of my neck, ready to continue where we had left off last night, and I am just about to turn around, so I can kiss him back, when the door opens, and my mom comes barging in.

“Can’t you hear…”

I can almost see the moment on her face when it truly hits her who is in my bed. It’s not even the shock of finding me in bed with someone, but the shock of finding Armie Hammer in my bed, that makes her face turn such a dark shade of red, that for a moment I think she is about to explode. But she just gives a small nod, before faking a smile. She’s not doing a great job, but at least she’s trying, I guess?

“Oh, hello… you must be…”

“I’m Armie,” he says, reaching out his hand, which only moments before was just about to slide into my pants. I still remember the way that hand had touched me last night, and as I watch my mom step up to the bed to shake his hand, I almost shout out, just to stop her. But let’s not make this any worse than it already is.

“Nicole.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Chalamet.”

“Yes. Well…” Mom is still trying her best to fake a smile, but I can see her scanning my room for some kind of proof, some kind of anything, and I know I have to get her out of my room as soon as possible, because if she stays any longer, who knows what kind of questions she’ll start asking?

“We’ll be down for breakfast in ten,” I quickly say, and mom nods, hesitating, before turning and leaving the room. She closes the door behind her, but she might as well not have, because we can both hear her calling out for my dad, not even trying to hide her shock.

“I’m staying for breakfast?” Armie whispers, “I thought you wanted me to sneak out?”

“You might as well stay, my mom has already seen you, and she…”

Before I can finish my sentence, we hear my dad getting out of the bathroom, worried at the panic in my mom’s voice, probably expecting the house to be burning down.

“What is wrong?”

“It’s Tim! He has…”

“Is he okay?” dad asks, and please don’t let him come in too. That’s all I need right now, for my dad to find me in bed with Armie too. That was exactly how I wanted my parents to meet him. For fuck sake.

“He has a boy in there!”

“A boy?” my dad asks. “The boy from the flowers?”

“It’s Armie Hammer, Marc! It’s actually him!” my mom explains, and I wonder if she realises how loud her voice really is when she’s upset. I turn to look over my shoulder, hoping that Armie isn’t upset, but he is clearly very amused by this turn of events, because he has a huge grin on his face. “Armie Hammer is in his bed!”

“So when he said he had gone out on a date with this guy…”

“It was actually him! Do you think they…?”

“What?”

“What if they slept together?” my mom asks, and I can’t say I’m surprised. That’s mom for you. “Oh god, he is having an affair with a Hollywood actor!”

“Calm down, they are probably just friends.”

“They are in bed together, Marc!”

“Keep your voice down, will you?” my dad laughs. “So the guy he likes turns out to be some kind of actor, who cares? You’ve seen him. He is happy, Nicole. So don’t ruin this for him.”

“I am not ruining anything, I am worried about my son. I thought he had fallen in love with some boy he had met at the shop, not…”

“Armie Hammer?”

“Exactly!”

“I can see where you get it from,” Armie laughs. “You take after your mom, huh?”

“Shut up,” I laugh, pushing his hand off my waist, before climbing out of bed. “This is your fault, you know?”

“How?”

“You wanted to stay.”

“Oh, yeah, this is my fault,” he laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave. I won’t tell them anything about last night, or about what we got up to in the storeroom, or… wait, they don’t have cameras in the storeroom, do they?”

“No, of course not! And if they did, I would have gotten rid of them by now.”

“So we can do it again some time?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows, and fucking hell. Armie Hammer, in my room, in my bed, talking about that time he sucked my dick. Armie Hammer, who is about to meet my parents. I swear, if you had told me all this, the day he walked in and ordered that goddamned unicorn surprise…

“Get your mind out of the gutter, will you?” I laugh, but he ignores me, and he comes up to me and pulls me in for a hug.

“Is it so bad that I want to kiss you?” he whispers, before pressing a kiss on my neck, my knees still growing weak when he does that. “That I want to touch my…”

“Your what?” I laugh, the blush on his face already telling me enough. “What were you going to say?”

“My boyfriend, okay?” he asks. “Or is it too soon for that?”

Too soon? I’d definitely say so. But whatever works for him!

“Tim! Breakfast!” my mom yells, probably assuming that me and Armie are going at it at right this moment. “Bring… Armie!”

“A conversation for another day?”

“Yeah, we better…”

“Relax, it’ll be fine.”

We go downstairs, where my parents are sitting at the kitchen table, the atmosphere more than just a little tense. Mom looks like she is about to burst with questions, with concerns, but she manages to keep quiet, as my dad introduces himself to Armie.

“So… how did you two meet?”

“I came into the shop for a coffee, and…”

“I told you that,” I interrupt. “I told you he had come in. I also told you we had gone on a date, but you didn’t believe me.”

“Well…”

“You didn’t.”

“It’s not every day you find out your son is going out with a Hollywood actor, is it?” mom laughs uncomfortably. “It’s not that we didn’t believe you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Tim!” my dad warns me, but I just shrug. Because yeah, I’m still a little hurt that they didn’t believe me. If they had, maybe I could have talked things through with them, and I wouldn’t have ended up arguing with Armie the other day.

It’s not fair to blame them for it though, is it? That was definitely all my fault.

“We’ve been hanging out ever since,” Armie goes on, ignoring my little outburst.

“And you are in town for work?” my mom asks, and I can tell that she really is trying her best. “For a new movie?”

“Yeah.” Armie smiles, but I can see that he is a little nervous, that he isn’t sure what he can and can’t say. That he doesn’t want to embarrass me, that he wants to get it right, not for himself, but for me.

“So how long are you in town for?” my dad asks, probably just trying to make small talk. But this is the subject Armie and I have been avoiding for as long as possible, and we share a knowing look, before he turns to face my dad.

“Another week or so.”

“A week? Oh, wow. What will you do after that?” mom asks. “Are you going to come back to see Tim, or…?”

“We haven’t discussed it yet,” I quickly say, not wanting Armie to tell my parents what he had told me last night. Because although I’m sure my parents would love to hear him say he wants to move here, I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

“I don’t think you can put it off much longer.”

“I know, mom.”

* * *

Armie had quickly left the house after breakfast, to go home and shower before work, while I had run upstairs, ignoring my parents’ further questions. I hadn’t even said goodbye to them when I had left for work. It had all been a bit too much for me. A case of too much, too soon. Armie talking about moving here, calling me his boyfriend, him meeting my mom and dad. Don’t get me wrong, it’s all going great, and I am not complaining. Far from it. But it’s all moving a little fast, and I am not exactly used to any of this.  
I am just passing the time, coming up with another drink, when Harley comes into the shop. They lean down on the counter, a knowing smile on their face, and I know I can’t ignore them.

“What?”

“You and Armie…”

“Armie…?”

“Don’t give me that,” Harley laughs. “Armie Hammer. My brother told me he saw you two at the bar the other week.”

Great, because I didn’t have enough to deal with, now Harley needs to find out about me and Armie? I’m sure they haven’t told their friends, because if they had, it would be all over the internet within minutes. So what is the catch? Are they going to blackmail me? Surely they must know that I am broke, and that all I can offer is a free coffee?

“That was just…”

“A date?”

“No!”

“Timothée!” they laugh. “Mike saw you. And I may have caught you making out when I came back the other day to pick up my bag…”

“You did?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to interrupt. But ehm… you and Armie? When did this happen?”

I want to deny it all, tell them it wasn’t Armie that I was making out with. That their brother must have gotten it wrong too. But something tells me that Harley isn’t like my friends.

“When he first came into the shop, I guess…”

“When I saw him too?” Harley laughs. “You’ve been dating this guy for three weeks? Jesus, it’s no wonder you’ve been so off lately. What? You’ve always been a little weird, but lately… it’s like you’re off in your own little Wonderland. Or… Hammerland.”

“Hammerland?” I laugh, “Really?”

Harley just shrugs, before hopping up onto the counter, the smile still on their face.

“He’s hot!”

“He is,” I agree. “He’s also a great kisser.”

“You dirty bastard! Wait, you didn’t do the dirty in this place, did you? Your parents would kill you!”

“Of course not!”

Does a blowjob in the storeroom count?

“God, my friends would just die if they knew you were dating Armie,” Harley laughs, but when they see my face, they roll their eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not telling anyone. It’s none of my business.”

“Thanks.”

“So will we be losing you to Hollywood soon? It’d be a nightmare to travel back and forth all the time.”

“I’m not sure.”

What _is_ going to happen once Armie has finished his work here?


	22. Chapter 22

**Day 22**

I am going to kill Armie.

No, I am not going to kill him. That wouldn’t be enough. I am going to find him, and I am going to make him suffer.

That son of a bitch!

“Did you see…?”

“Yes, I fucking saw them!” I spit out, before Harley can even finish their question.

“Do you think he’s dating her?”

No, I don’t think he’s dating his co-star. He told me, didn’t he? It’s work, it’s what he does. He makes out with someone, gets his picture taken, it creates publicity. It’s work.

But fuck him.

I was still waking up when I saw the hundreds of chat notifications on my phone. For a moment I was scared that people had found out about me and Armie. But when I opened the chat, I saw the dozens of pictures of him and Madeline Whatshername. They were getting out of a café, not far from our shop, holding hands. Seeing them was enough to make my blood boil, but when I scrolled on, and I saw the ones of them kissing, of Armie with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, I almost threw my phone across the room.

I could also see his texts coming in, but I knew that if I were to speak to him, it would turn into a screaming match. So I’ve been ignoring them all morning, and he better not show up at the shop today, because who knows how I’ll react?

“Do you want to talk about?” Harley asks, and I appreciate their offer, but no, I really don’t. Armie knows how much I have been freaking out about all of this, and this is what he does? Without telling me?

No, fuck him.

Fuck Armie Hammer, and fuck whatever he made us out to be.

I am done with him.

* * *

During dinner it was blatantly obvious that my parents had either heard about what had happened, or they had seen the pictures. They hadn’t brought it up though. My mom had simply given me a big hug, before letting me flee to my room. I had let it all come out, and after I had run out of tears, I had gotten into bed. I was done with the day, and ready for it to be over.

But just as I’m beginning to doze off, the door opens. I’m expecting my mom to come in to check on me, but when I open my eyes, I see a beautiful bouquet of tulips, with a large hand wrapped around the stems.

“May I come in?”

Armie pushes the door further open, and he steps in, without waiting for a reply. Probably too scared I would say no.

I should send him away, because I still feel like shit. But I am too tired to even speak. So I watch, as he lays down the bouquet on my desk, and he comes over to sit down on the side of my bed.

“Your mom let me in,” he explains, but when he tries to reach out for my hand, and I pull it back, he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you, Armie. I introduced you to my parents, I even told Harley about us, and you just…”

“I’m not going out with Madeline. It was part of the job, Timmy.”

“Do not ‘Timmy’ me!” I spit out, and I can see that I am hurting him. But he hurt me too. “I know that it was another set-up, but you should have warned me. How do think it made me feel to wake up to those pictures, huh?”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t! I told you, I am struggling here, Armie. I have a hard time believing that you want to be with me, then you tell me some bullshit about wanting to move here, and the next day you’re out there, making out with Madeline?”

“I wasn’t…”

“For once, try and put yourself in my shoes. How do you think it looks? If you had warned me, I could have prepared myself for it. But you kept it from me. So how do I know that she isn’t your girlfriend, huh? That you’re just telling me that it’s part of the job, just because you got caught.”

“I am so sorry, Timothée. I wanted to tell you, but then we got into an argument, and I just…,” he sighs. “I got scared. I thought that if I told you about this, you would…”

“Freak out again?” I suggest, and he nods, an embarrassed look on his face. “You didn’t think I would freak out if I found out about them like this?”

“I tried to stop them from getting published,” Armie admits. “I thought I had gotten through to them, but obviously not. I am sorry, okay? I fucked up. But I am telling you, she is just a colleague, nothing more.”

“I know that! That is not the point. You should have told me.”

“You’re right.”

He reaches out for my hand, and this time I let him grab onto it. Because what is the point in arguing over it any longer? We’ll keep going in circles, when it’s obvious that he knows he messed up. And seeing as he was willing to forgive me, I suppose I can forgive him for this too.

“Next time I will tell you, okay?” he asks. “I will discuss it with you, and if you don’t want me to do it…”

“Next time?”

“Yes, Timmy, next time,” he laughs. “I told you, I am in this for the long run.”

“Until you go home again,” I laugh, trying to make a joke out of it, but we both know that I mean those words. “You’ll forget all about this place.”

“No, I won’t. You know, I almost told my parents about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I did. My very conservative parents,” he adds, his hand still wrapped tightly around mine.

“What did they say?”

“Nothing,” he laughs, a sheepish grin on his face. “I got scared, and I hung up. But I wanted to tell them, so what does that tell you?”

“That you didn’t tell them,” I laugh, and he playfully nudges me in the arm. “Were you really going to tell them?”

“Yeah. I told you, man, I like you. No, you know what? Fuck that. I love you, Timmy.”

He what?

Roll back. He almost told his parents about me, he wants to move here, and he loves me?

Yeah, this is definitely a lot to take in, especially after this morning, when I was ready to kick his ass and tell him to fuck off home.

But he loves me?

“I love you, too.”

“Yeah?” he laughs. “So I am forgiven?”

“Of course.”

“It’s the flowers, right?” he asks, as he climbs into bed with me. He wraps his arms around my waist, before pressing a kiss into my hair. “Everyone loves flowers, Timmy.”

“You’re not going to give up on that, are you?”

“Never.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Day 23**

All day my phone has been buzzing with chat notifications, my friends still freaking out over the pictures that were taken of Armie and Madeline. I almost went into the chat to tell them that it’s all bullshit, that they are not actually dating. But I know that my comment would just disappear into the hundreds of crying emojis, the rumours about the guy Madeline was rumoured to be dating last month, edited versions of the pictures… Besides, I know that Armie wasn’t even allowed to tell me about this set-up with Madeline being for publicity, and I don’t want to betray his trust. I didn’t even tell my parents when they very subtly asked me how things were going with Armie this morning. I just told them that things were going just fine, and they could probably tell by the irritated look on my face that I didn’t want to talk about it.

I have done my best to ignore it all day, to remember that I have forgiven Armie, that it’s no big deal, but when he finally comes in, almost an hour later than promised, his eyes glued to his phone, I almost tell him not to bother. Just go home and go text fucking Madeline over there.

“Sorry,” he says, when he finally looks up, his cake and coffee already on the counter waiting for him. “Work. It’s been a crazy day.”

“I can imagine. Those pictures created quite the buzz…”

“Oh, yeah?” he laughs, a knowing grin on his face. “Are you jealous?”

“No!”

“I don’t want to make out with Madeline, Timmy. I would much rather be here, and…,” he begins, but his phone beeps, and he quickly takes it out of his pocket, the rest of his sentence apparently already forgotten about. Because he sits down at his table without another word, not even taking his coffee and cake with him.

So I take it with me as I join him, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. So I take out my own phone, and I scroll through the hundreds of new messages, until I reach the newest ones. I am still expecting them to be crying or ranting about these pictures, but the conversation has turned to fanfiction. One story in particular actually. A certain story about Armie and a guy called ‘Jamie’, in a storeroom…

“What are you grinning at?” Armie laughs. “Should _I_ be jealous?”

“It’s my friends,” I explain, “They’ve been reading my stories.”

“And? What do they think?”

“They don’t know it’s me. They think it’s some random girl writing them,” I explain, still remembering how they had all thrown out different names, desperate to find out who had written the ‘New York blowjob’ story. I had never actually replied to my friend’s message, and although I had gotten a ton more, all asking me to join our group, I had ignored them all. It hadn’t stopped my friends from reading my stories though! They had gone through all my stories, and they had openly discussed everything I had written, completely unaware that I was actually the one who had written them. At first it had freaked me out, but now it just makes me laugh, seeing them quoting my story, gushing over how much they love the Armie in this story, and so on. It’s kind of flattering. Weird. But flattering. I guess.

“Wait, why won’t you tell them it’s you?”

“Because it’d be weird. No one used to read my stories, now people are sharing them everywhere, and it feels like they’re not even mine anymore.”

“I told you they were good!”

“Yeah, and now my friends are discussing the storeroom one,” I laugh. “They were here, you know? They know we met here. How long do you think it’ll be before they put two and two together and they figure out that this CoffeeShopStoryteller is me?”

“So? Then they’ll think you’ve got a crush on me and you want me to suck your dick.” Armie shrugs, that grin growing more mischievous by the second. “They won’t think that actually happened.”

“But it did!”

“So what are they saying?”

“I’m not telling you!”

“Timmy!” he laughs, finally picking up his cake, but when he smells it, he turns up his nose. “What is this?”

“I don’t know. Some mix my dad made. It’s horrible.”

I tried to figure out what flavour it was, but I gave up after two slices. Dad wouldn’t tell me, told me I had to figure it out for myself. But there was no way I was going to eat any more of that. So I guess we’ll never know.

“I was thinking…”

Oh, no. That can’t be good, can it? Is this the time for the boyfriend conversation? But then, just a few days ago he told me he wanted to move here. So with Armie you never know what he is thinking of. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he comes out with a marriage proposal next.

“Yes?”

Please let him ask for a different cake, a different drink, another date. Something simple. Please.

“How about you stay at mine tonight.”

Oh, thank God.

Wait, what?

“You mean…”

“I’m willing to spell it out for you, but I’ve read your stories, Timmy, I’m pretty sure you already know what I’m asking.”

Armie is still grinning, but I can tell that he is nervous, that this isn’t a small step for him. I had seen this look on his face when we had gone into the storeroom the other week, and I had even asked him if it was too soon. If we should do it another time instead. But he had simply kissed me, and told me that he was nervous because it was his first time. His honesty, that moment I got to peek behind the confident façade again, it had made me fall in love with him so much more. And sure, it was great what happened after, but I think it was that moment that meant even more to me.

“We don’t have to do this, you know? Just because I write about it, doesn’t mean…”

“You actually want to do it?” he laughs. “Ouch?”

“I do! You know that!” I laugh, as he reaches out to take my hand. “But I know we only have a few days left together, and I don’t want you to do this just because you feel like we have to take this step before you go home. We can do this next time we see each other, or… I don’t know, whenever.”

“Here I was, thinking my acting was alright.”

“Your acting?”

“That I could hide my nerves,” he admits, his hand getting clammier. “Maybe I should give up the job, huh?”

“Nah, you’re alright. You’re cute when you’re nervous,” I whisper, before kissing him. It feels odd, being the one that is confident… well, I wouldn’t say I’m confident. Because let’s face it, if we were in his room right now, about to have sex, I would probably blurt out something stupid, trip over my own feet, then end up in hospital before we’d even get to it. But right now, at this moment, here, safely at the coffee shop, I feel confident.

“I could still spend the night at yours?” I suggest, and I suppose we really have come a long way since we first met. Because three weeks ago I was too nervous to even serve Armie his coffee without blushing, and now I’m suggesting I spend the night with him? This really is heading into the right direction, isn’t it? So maybe all that freaking out wasn’t necessary, but can you blame me? It’s Armie Hammer!

My boyfriend.

I think.

“Yeah, you want to stay at mine?” he asks, and fucking hell, he is the one blushing this time. Not just one of those ‘ _is he or isn’t he?_ ’ kinds of blushing, but even his ears have turned a dark shade of red.

“We could make out… have a cuddle…”

“See where it goes?”


	24. Chapter 24

**Day 24**

When I had woken up a few hours ago, Armie was still in bed next to me, his arm hung loosely around my waist. The realisation that last night hadn’t been a dream, or another fantasy, it had made my heart jump, and I hadn’t been able to stop watching him for the longest time. He had looked so beautiful, so handsome, so pure, as he was still sleeping. He had told me that I don’t know him, not really. That I only know the actor, I only know the version of himself that the outside world gets to see. But as I had watched him sleep, I knew that this was the real him. That last night I got to see the real person. Not the actor, not even the confident Armie he had been trying to show me all these weeks, but the real him.

Last night I didn’t even think about the man that I had written all those stories about. I had only thought about Armie, the man who had stepped into the coffee shop, the man who had bought me roses, who had held my hand as we had walked through town in the middle of the night.

Last night he had shown me the real him, as he had kissed me, his hands shaking with nerves, as we had undressed each other, his breath catching in his throat. He had been so nervous, so careful with me, and it had been like nothing I had ever experienced before. I have to admit that when I had been with guys before, it had been nothing more than getting each other off. But with Armie there were kisses, there were caresses. He made me feel things I didn’t even know I could feel! This didn’t feel like sex, this felt like, at the risk of sounding ridiculous, making love. Who knew that that was actually a thing?

I must have fallen asleep while watching him sleep though, because when I woke up a few minutes ago, it was because I heard the door to his room opening and closing. For a moment I thought someone had come in, but when I opened my eyes, and I sat up, I found the room empty.

I was hoping that maybe he had just gone to the bathroom, but it’s been at least fifteen minutes now, and there is no sign of him coming back. Even last night I had feared that this would happen, that this was a step too far, and it would make him change his mind about me, about us. But I had told myself to stop worrying, because he had told me, right? This is what he wanted.

So why did he leave?

* * *

I am just about to get out of bed, get dressed, go home, pretend this whole thing didn’t happen, when the door opens. Armie comes in, carrying a full tray of food, fresh orange juice, coffee… and is that a rose?

“I thought you had gone,” I blurt out, but he just flashes a smile, before closing the door behind him, and carefully coming over to the bed, making sure not to drop the food and drinks.

“I was making breakfast.”

“I see that,” I say, trying really hard not to smile as he hands me the rose. But who am I kidding? I don’t care if this is too ‘90’s rom-com’, I think I can get used to this.

His cheeks turn red as he hands me my coffee, last night clearly on his mind, but he doesn’t bring it up. He only looks down at his own coffee, the smallest, most bashful smile on his face.

“Are you okay?” I ask, but when the smile begins to grow bigger, until it almost seems to be ready to burst out of him, I can’t help but laugh. “No regrets then?”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Armie laughs, even his neck flaring up. “Last night…”

He smiles back into his coffee, clearly at a loss for words, overwhelmed at what had happened. I love seeing this side to him, and I wish I could capture it somehow. I almost tell myself to write it down, so in years to come, I can look back at my words, and remember this exact moment. But when he looks back up, and he flashes another smile, I realise that I won’t have to write anything down. Because no matter what happens, nothing will ever stop me from remembering last night, but even more so, this morning. This moment, the way Armie is looking at me.

“I love you,” he whispers, and although he had blurted it out the other day, and he had told me last night, just before he had fallen asleep, somehow it doesn’t truly hit me until right now just how big these words are. How much they mean to me.

“I love you, too.”

* * *

“So…”

“So what?” I laugh, still feeling like I’m on cloud nine after spending the morning in bed with Armie.

“Should I check for a new story later today?”

“No. This was ours, Armie,” I say, and he raises an eyebrow, but I lean in, and I kiss him, before leading him into the shop. “I’m not going to write about our first time.”

“I don’t mind if you want to write about it,” he says, and fucking hell, what have I done to deserve this man? “Just don’t… you know…”

“What?”

“You’ll know what to leave out, right? What I want to keep between us,” he says, blushing again. “That I was nervous… you shouldn’t write about that.”

“Look at me,” I whisper, as I lead him into the storeroom, “I am not going to write about it. And writing about what happened here… I should have asked your permission first. If I ever do write anything about us, or anything that’s inspired by the real you, then I’ll let you read it first, okay? I am not going to put something out there that is ours.”

“I don’t care about the other stories, Timmy,” Armie admits. “But last night meant a lot to me.”

“To me too,” I whisper. “ _You_ mean a lot to me.”

“We ehm… we never did have that conversation, did we?”

“About…?”

I know exactly what he is talking about, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for it now. Even though I probably should be, especially after last night. But we have what, four, five days left together? Do we really want to put a label on what we have, when it is all about to come to an end?

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” he asks, before quickly adding, “Fuck, that makes me sound like a sixteen-year old, doesn’t it?”

“A little.”

Again, not running away, not avoiding answering. Just giving myself a moment longer to come up with an answer.

“Partner?”

Well, fuck. What is next? Husband?

But before I can say anything, Harley comes into the storeroom, covering their eyes, a big grin on their face.

“Can I look? Or will I be traumatized?”

“Nothing’s going on,” Armie laughs, before adding, “This time.”

“Shit, I knew it! You totally hooked up in here, didn’t you?” Harley laughs, before grabbing what they came in for. “Your parents are going to kill you, Timothée.”

“We did not…”

“Holy shit!” Harley says, and they stare at me, then to Armie, then to me again, and I can see that they have just realised something, but they just laugh, well, it comes out more like a cackle, before they leave the storeroom again.

“What was that about?”

“I have no idea,” I admit, before turning back to Armie, knowing that I should take Harley’s interruption as my chance to get out of this conversation. But we all know that Armie won’t give up on this, so we might as well get it over with.

“That’s a no then?” he asks, probably seeing that I am hesitating. Because fuck yes, I want to be his boyfriend, partner, husband even one day. Although, let’s keep the husband part quiet for now. But with time running out for us, I just don’t know what to do, what to say? Why can’t we just keep it as it is, without having to put a label on it? Because when we make it official, won’t it only make things that much worse when he has to leave?

“I love you, Armie. Not in a ‘ _You’re Armie Fucking Hammer, and I love you_ ’, kind of way, but in a… I am falling in love with you, and I am scared to death of how much I feel for you already, kind of way,” I admit, and wasn’t I meant to keep this to myself? “But we both know where this is going, so I don’t know if I can do this. I want to, and you know that. But it wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

“I told you, Timmy, this is the life I want. With you, here… I’m not just going to pack up and disappear once we’re done filming here.”

“It will never work, not with how different our lives are. I’m not talking about you being an actor, but how busy you are, the distance between us… it’s not going to be like this anymore.”

“Maybe we won’t see each other every day, but it’ll work. We’ll find a way,” he says, and when he wraps his arms around my waist, and he flashes a big fanged grin, before kissing me, I know that no words are going to convince him that he is living in some kind of fairy tale, and that his plans just aren’t realistic. “I want to be with you, Timmy. So… boyfriends?”

“Boyfriends,” I laugh, the word actually making my heart skip a beat. He kisses me again, but when the storeroom opens again, and Harley comes in, he steps away from me.

“Seriously? Can you please wait until my shift is over?” Harley asks, rolling their eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for this whole thing, but I really don’t want to know what goes on in here. I still want to be able to touch all this stuff without feeling like I need a shower to get your… ugh off me.”

“We weren’t…”

“Sure you weren’t.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I am not going to lie. I thought you had all forgotten about this story, or you were all sick and tired of it. No comments? No kudos? This was happening with still a bunch of chapters to go? Well, guess we're fucked then, right?  
> But then I just got here to post the new chapter, and guess what I found? A bunch of lovely comments from you lot! And a bunch of new kudos. And AO3 didn't bother to let me know about them!  
> So yeah, I'm not sure if I'm the only one still having issues since they've done their updates. But I am happy to see you're still here for the rest of it! After writing a dozen different final chapters, I finally decided which one to go for last night. I rewrote it again and again, but I think it's all done now. So I finally know where this thing is going, and I can't wait to share the rest of it with you.  
> I'm shit at replying to comments at the best of times, and you will probably get nothing more than a 'thank you', but I mean it, so that counts for something, right? But with having found all your comments at once just now, I don't just want to bombard you all with the same 'thank you', so I'm just going to thank you all in one go here. A genuine thank you for all your lovely comments, they have really given me a push every single time to keep going. So thank you!  
> I will now shut up, because this thing is longer than the whole chapter. Geez!  
> Xx

**Day 25**

“Tim! Have you got a minute?”

I was planning on going to work early, to see if I could sit down and try and work on a story that I began writing a couple of months ago. I have rewritten it so many times, that I was about to give up on it, but with all that has happened these last weeks, I feel more inspired to write again. I mean, sure, it’s still a little weird knowing that I am writing about Armie, but ‘Armie’, the guy in the story, he is so different from the guy I know, he just seems like another character now. Not someone based on the guy I know. My boyfriend.

Yeah, I’m still trying to see how that sounds.

That one is definitely going to take some time to get used to.

But I guess my story will have to wait, because mom calls out for me again, so I go into the living room, and by the look on her face I can see that this is going to be a serious conversation. So I join her on the couch, but I don’t say a word, because what if I bring up Armie, and it turns out she was going to tell me something about the shop?

“Tim…”

Oh, no. The way she is saying my name… this is going to be bad, isn’t it?.

“Your dad and I have been talking about it, about your relationship with Armie…”

Are they going to try and stop me from seeing him? Is that it?

I really don’t like that look on her face.

“We are worried, Tim,” mom admits. “What is going to happen when he goes home?”

“I don’t know.”

“I am scared that he is going to break your heart,” mom says, grabbing onto my hand so tightly that it hurts, but I don’t dare to open my mouth and tell her. “He is an actor, he is used to a different life, to different…”

“You don’t believe he would want to be with someone like me?” I hear myself ask, and I realise how bitter it sounds. “He told me he loves me, mom.”

“But you don’t know what will happen when he leaves?” mom asks, and before I can explain, she goes on, “I want you to be happy, Tim, but this boy is used to a big Hollywood lifestyle. Is he going to come back to see you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going to go see him?” mom asks, but all I can do is shrug, every doubt I have had these last weeks, every doubt I had managed to get rid of, now coming back, stronger than before. “Are you going to go live with him?”

“No! I don’t want to leave. I do, someday, but not to move to… wherever it is that he lives.”

“You have to talk to him about this.”

“We have. Sort of… he wants to move here,” I admit, “I think.”

“Really?” mom asks, a confused look on her face. I can’t say I blame her. “How would that work? Wouldn’t he get bored here? I would think he is used to a more exciting lifestyle, don’t you think?”

“Yes, mom. I told him that too. But I don’t know, okay? For fuck sake!”

“Tim!”

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why he wants to be with me. Why he would want to move here. I’m not even sure if I want him to move here. It’s been three weeks! All of this feels really fucking weird, and I don’t know what is going to happen,” I hear myself admitting, tears starting to well up in my eyes. “He is probably just going to go home and forget about me. So I don’t want to talk to him, or think about it. I am terrified, because I am in love with him, and I feel like I am about to lose him, okay?”

My mom wraps her arms around me, trying her best to comfort me, but it’s too late, and the tears are already streaming down my face. I feel like an idiot for letting myself fall in love with him, but I couldn’t have stopped it, could I? I’m not even sure when it happened exactly, and it’s not like I chose for this to happen. If I had known that Armie had stepped into the shop that day just for me, I probably would have run a mile.

All I want is for my mom to tell me that it is all going to be okay, that Armie and I are going to find a way to make things work, that we will get our happy ending. But when I hear her sigh, her arms still wrapped around me, I struggle to hold back more tears. Because up until now, I could try and avoid thinking too much about the inevitable, I could still somehow tell myself that it was all going to work itself out, or that some kind of miracle would happen, but there is no denying anymore that our time together is now really starting to run out.

* * *

“You don’t like the food?”

I look up from my food, realising that I have been pushing it around on the plate for minutes, and I haven’t actually taken a bite yet, my stomach still in knots from my conversation with my mom earlier today.

“Want to talk about it?” Armie asks, and for a moment I consider telling him why I’ve been quiet ever since we arrived at the restaurant, why I have probably missed half of his questions, because I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts. But we’ve already had this conversation, and I know what he will say to me. He will try to convince me that we will find a way to make it work, and that will be that. So what would be the point? Besides, why waste our final days together talking about a future that is nothing more than a fantasy?

“Sorry, it’s been a long day,” I say, and I flash a smile which I know isn’t very convincing, but he lets me get away with it. “The food is great.”

“If you want to get out of here, go somewhere quiet…”

“Where they’re not staring at you?” I ask, nudging my head into the direction of the table at the other side of the room. There is a family with two teenage girls, and they have been staring at us ever since we walked in. I still remember how much it had bothered me when people had been staring at us at the bar, but tonight it only made me chuckle, seeing their excited faces, hearing their giggles.

“I don’t mind if you want to leave.”

“It’s fine. I’m starting to get used to it.” I shrug, and he raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile on his face. “I’m getting there. I think.”

“So… I’m going to ask you something.”

Oh no.

A romantic candlelit dinner… he is wearing a really nice shirt… his hair looks great… he smells really nice… I don’t like this. He’s not going to ask the big question, is he?  
I can already tell you what my answer would be. Well, it wouldn’t be an answer. It would mostly be me running out of the door, trying to get as far away from this guy as possible. Because what the hell?

“Right…”

Don’t do it, Armie.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” he asks, and although it’s a question that would have probably brought me to tears this morning, it now makes me breathe a sigh of relief. “What do you want to do? Do you want to stay here? Do you want to go travel… go back to college?”

“No, I’m definitely not going back to college,” I chuckle uncomfortably. “I tried that, and it wasn’t for me. But I don’t know, in five years I’ll probably still be here, working at the shop… hopefully I’ll have my own place by then.”

“Our place?” Armie suggests, and he really isn’t going to give up on that, is he? I guess he is still in denial about having to go back to his life back home then. “What about your writing?”

“What about it?”

“Have you ever considered writing anything other than fanfiction?” he asks. “I have worked with a lot of screenplays that didn’t even come close to the stuff you write. I really think that if you put your mind to it, you could either write a book, or…”

“Fuck off, Armie. I write short stories about you hooking up with… whoever. I don’t write Oscar-winning screenplays.”

“You could. I am telling you, you are a great writer, Timmy. If you want to, I can set you up with some people, we can…”

“Don’t,” I quickly say, “I appreciate it, but I wouldn’t even know what to write about.”

“Yeah, you do. People love your writing. They want more. If you want to turn this into more than just a hobby, I can help you.”

“I don’t even know what I want to do,” I admit, my cheeks burning, “Everyone at college had these big plans, they had their whole lives mapped out. But I had no idea what I wanted to do. I still don’t. Maybe I’m just meant to run the shop. I mean, I’m not a writer. Not really.”

“Do you like working at the shop?”

“I think so. It’s not the most exciting thing to do, but I know how hard my parents worked to set it up, and I know they want me to take over one day. It’s fine, I guess.”

“Do you think they’d hire me?”

“What? Like you need a job!”

“Maybe…” He grins, but it’s enough to make me snap out of today’s funk, and I let him take my hand. “I wouldn’t mind working there with you.”

“Oh yeah, the excitement of making rainbow drinks…”

“We could come up with something new, right?” he suggests, and I love how he can let himself dream about a future that we all know will never happen. I love how he can let himself get so excited, how he can imagine himself living here, with me, working at the coffee shop, away from the city life. For a moment I even let myself get dragged into his fantasy.

“I think it’d be great.” He shrugs. “Just you and me…”

“And my parents… Harley…”

“Yeah, you, me, and our family.”

This man, I am telling you… every day I think I can’t fall in love with him any more, but then he comes out with these little comments, and I swear, somehow he makes it possible for me to love him even more.

“Did you always know you wanted to be an actor?” I ask, trying to get some kind of reality back into the conversation. “Were you one of those annoying kids, constantly performing for everyone?”

“No, definitely not,” he laughs. “I just loved movies, and I fell in love with the way these people on screen could tell a story. I told my parents I wanted to be like them, but they’re pretty conservative, and they just wanted me to have a ‘normal’ job, you know? I was supposed to go to college, meet a girl, get married… by now I should have been married, have kids, a dog, the whole white picket fence kind of life, you know?”

“What did they say when you told them you wanted to be an actor?”

“They didn’t talk to me for weeks. But I had just been through a pretty rough year, so I decided to go for it, and I was lucky enough to get some small jobs early on. I wasn’t making the kind of movies I wanted to make, but I was working, so… it was good enough, you know?”

“What kind of movies do you want to make?”

“I’ve always been cast as ‘guy on the beach’, or ‘guy at the party’, I’m someone’s boyfriend, someone’s brother… it feels like I’m there, just for…”

“Your good looks?” I ask, and by the blush on his face I can tell that that is exactly what he was trying to say.

“But I want to tell stories, important stories. That’s why I made that movie with Finn. I was offered a part in a pretty big movie, but it was another one of those romantic comedies, and it just felt like a waste of time, you know? Then Finn told me about this movie he had written, about his brother, and he didn’t even tell me because he wanted me to be in it. But when I heard what his brother had gone through, after coming out… this was exactly why I had gotten into acting in the first place. So that’s why I did his movie instead, and I have gotten so much shit for it, but these are the movies I want to make,” he tells me, and I don’t think I have ever heard him this passionate about acting before now. He seems to notice the look on my face though, because he quickly adds, “Sorry, that movie just meant a lot to me.”

“Finn’s brother died, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he got bullied after coming out, and he took his own life,” Armie says, and from his voice I can hear how that project has gotten to him, maybe even more than he knows himself. “We got to see it, last month, and I don’t know, man… it’s a tough one.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

“We’ll watch it together,” he says, tightening the grip on my hand. “At the premiere.”

It feels like another faraway dream, but I can feel a small smile forming on my face, because the fact that he is already planning on bringing me to his premiere, when a month ago he didn’t even know me, it’s crazy, right? But the best kind of crazy. The kind I could definitely get used to.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“When you said you had gone through a rough time, before you got into acting…”

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” he asks, flashing an uncomfortable smile. “It won’t ruin the fantasy?”

“I think I’m done with the fantasies,” I laugh, but I can tell that he is getting more uncomfortable, because he lets go of my hand, and he grabs his drink. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s just… when you told me about your panic attacks in college… I know what it’s like,” he admits, but just as he is about to continue, the waiter comes up to our table. And although we haven’t finished our food yet, we quickly pay the bill, and make our way out of the restaurant so we can continue our conversation without being interrupted.

“I got bullied when I was a kid,” he tells me, as we head over to the park. “I was called every name under the sun, and now I know that I shouldn’t have let it get to me, but as a kid, it really got me down. I’m talking about having anxiety attacks, every day I had to go to school, crying myself to sleep, thinking I wasn’t good enough. Wishing I would wake up different, somehow. Wishing I was someone else… I felt like I couldn’t breathe, every time I stepped into that school,” he admits, his voice shaking, and I feel like I should say something, but I am struggling to even walk right now. It feels like my legs weigh a ton, like my blood has turned to ice, because I had always seen Armie as the confident, even a little arrogant, good-looking guy, who didn’t seem to have a care in the world. I would have never known that he was bullied, I just assumed that he had had one of those perfect childhoods.

“I thought the bullying would stop if I changed,” he says, as we step into the park, “so when I went back to school after the summer, looking so different I hardly recognised myself in the mirror, I thought everything would change. But they just found new reasons to try and tear me down.”

“I’m so sorry…”<

“I still get anxiety attacks, when things get too much,” he admits. “Or just a few months ago, when I was told that I had to lose weight, I had to change my hair… it brought back all those feelings of not being good enough. I almost quit acting after that. But I don’t want to let it get to me, not anymore. I want to live my life, and if people don’t like it...”

“Fuck ‘em?”

“Exactly,” he says, flashing a small smile.

We sit down on a bench, but when he stares down at his hands, I realise that he hasn’t answered my question. Not really.

“I had a best friend,” he sighs, as though he can read my mind. “The only guy who was willing to hang out with me, even though he got called names just for being my friend. He wanted to be an actor too.”

“What happened?”

“He died. Wrong place, wrong time. Got caught up in someone else’s fight. That’s why I became an actor, because I felt like I owed it to him.”

I can see the tears in his eyes, but I don’t know what to say to him. So instead, I wrap my arms around him, and I let him sniffle into my shoulder for the longest time, until he finally pulls away.

“This is a great date, isn’t it?” he laughs uncomfortably, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, for telling me,” I say, brushing my hand through his hair, before letting it linger on the back of his neck. “I love you, and for what it’s worth, you are perfect to me. Just the way you are.”

Yes, I know how cliché it is to say it. But I’m sure it’s a cliché for a reason. Why would anyone tell him to change? This guy is just about the definition of perfection, and no, I didn’t think I would ever say that about anyone. But guess what, I have fallen head over heels in love with him, and maybe, just maybe, I am starting to believe in that happy ending after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr : https://samunderthelights.tumblr.com/


	26. Chapter 26

**Day 26**

I had stayed over at Armie’s last night, but this time he hadn’t brought me breakfast in bed. Instead, he had dragged me out to the pancake restaurant again, all the way there telling me about the milkshake he had tasted last week. He had come up with the mix himself, and I couldn’t help but laugh when he had told me, because maybe he’d be a better fit in the coffee shop than I had first thought. This is how I had come up with most drinks, by just mixing a bunch of stuff together, and hoping it would taste nice.

“So, what do you think?” he asks, looking far too excited for this time of day. And although I can’t say that I was too keen on the thought of having to have a milkshake for breakfast, I have to say that this mix he has come up with is actually really good. Sweet, but good. Better than the ‘unicorn surprise’, that’s for sure.

“Maybe you should ask them for a job.”

“Maybe I will.” He grins. “If your parents don’t want me in their shop.”

“My parents? Who says _I_ want you there?”

“Ouch,” Armie laughs, before stuffing half a pancake into his mouth, the syrup dripping down his chin. “I probably won’t have time to work anyway, I’ll be here all day, trying out every thing that’s on the menu.”

“Then spend the rest of the day working out?” I laugh, as he pours more syrup onto the remaining pancakes. “How do you do it? Eat all that crap, and still look like that?”

“Like what?” He grins, more syrup dripping down his chin, and I’m not going to lie, this really isn’t his most charming look. But I can’t deny that I’m still feeling butterflies when I look at him, even when he looks like this. “Huh?”

“Yeah, don’t ask me that. Not right now.”

“What are you saying?” he laughs, before leaning over the table, and giving me a sticky kiss. “I’m telling you, Timmy, I can get used to this.”

* * *

Armie is working late tonight, so I had come home after work, and I had actually had dinner with my parents again. I had almost forgotten how nice it is to just sit down and chat about my day with them. They had brought Armie up as well, but only to ask if he would come over for dinner. I was grateful they didn’t mention the conversation I had had with my mom yesterday, because I really don’t want to think about it anymore.

I didn’t really want to think about anything at all tonight, so I had gotten into bed, hoping to find some ridiculous show on Netflix to distract me from everything. But one of Armie’s movies had come up in my recommendations, and although it felt weird to see his face pop up on Netflix, I hadn’t hesitated to start watching it.

It’s one of the first movies in which he played one of the leads, and I can’t say it’s his best work, but I also can’t deny that I must have already seen it at least a dozen of times. It’s just a stupid comedy, and within five minutes you can already tell how it’s going to end, but Armie is great in it. His comedic timing is great, and all those scenes where he is running around in nothing but his boxers aren’t bad either…

I have seen this movie so many times, that I know exactly what scenes are coming up, yet tonight it feels like I’m watching it for the first time. Knowing what Armie had gone through, just a few years before this movie was made, it makes me look at it in a whole new light. It makes me realise just how great of an actor Armie truly is.

But it also makes me feel sick to my stomach, because this is who Armie is. He’s not the guy who is going to move here, who is going to help me out in the shop. He is going to make more movies, and he is going to grow bigger, more famous. He might even end up at the Oscars some day. Don’t get me wrong, he deserves all of it, and I want him to be able to make the movies he has been dreaming of making. But if he goes back to that life, where does that leave me? Where do I fit in?

* * *

I have only just fallen asleep, when my phone starts ringing. I quickly pick it up, hoping the sound hasn’t woken my parents up. But I’m still a little sleepy, and it takes me a moment to fully wake up.

“Timmy?”

“Mhm.”

“Guess what?”

“Huh?”

“Were you asleep?” Armie asks, and well, what do you expect when you call someone at… okay, it’s only eleven, so not too late to call, I guess. “Do you want me to call you tomorrow?”

“No, it’s fine,” I mumble. “What’s going on?”

“I have a surprise for you.”

I hate surprises. Mom and dad once tried to surprise me by inviting my whole class to my seventh birthday party, and I ended up hiding in the bathroom, wanting nothing more than to go home and watch movies and eat pizza, like we were supposed to do. Since then, everyone knows not to try and surprise me. And with Armie, who knows what he has done? It could literally be anything, especially if he wakes me up in the middle of the night to tell me about it.

I can hear how excited he is to tell me though, so I take a deep breath, before forcing a smile onto my face, even though he can’t even see me.

“Great! What is it?”

“I’ll have to show you. Meet me at mine, tomorrow at… say eight? We can go for breakfast after,” he says, and if I have to wait all night to see what this surprise is, I know I won’t be able to sleep. I’ll be too busy, worrying what he has done. But I’m not quite ready to find out right now either. Because something tells me that this is not a surprise picnic, or another bouquet of flowers. Something tells me that this is much bigger than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr : https://samunderthelights.tumblr.com/


	27. Chapter 27

**Day 27**

As expected, I didn’t get any sleep. Just about every scenario has played out in my mind, and I have thought about it so much, that I will probably just be left feeling disappointed when Armie finally tells me what the surprise is.

“Where are you going?” my dad asks, when I’m about to head out of the door. “Are you meeting Armie again?”

“Yeah, we’re going out for breakfast.”

“We’d really like for him to come over for dinner, before he…”

“Before he leaves?” I suggest, ignoring the uncomfortable look on my dad’s face. “I’ll ask him. But I’m not sure when he’s leaving, and he might be working.”

“You don’t want us to get to know him?” dad asks, a knowing smile on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mom that he has to work. But next time he’s here, we’d really like to spend some time with him, and get to know him better.”

“Yeah, next time.”

Next time. Whenever that might be. If it happens.  
Let’s get this surprise over with first.

I head out, and I can feel my legs growing heavier with every step, so by the time I get to Armie’s, I’m running late. He must have been expecting it though, because he just flashes a big grin, before coming up to me to give me a kiss.

“Tell me.”

“Wow, give me a minute, will you?” he laughs. “I’ll have to show you.”

“Can you just tell me?”

“Timmy!”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“Tough luck, because I’m not telling you. Now, come on,” he laughs, before taking my hand, and leading me away from his place. I wish he would just hurry up, but it feels like he is just taking a casual stroll, and I can feel my heart starting to beat faster with every step, dreading to find out what this surprise is. But when he stops walking, and he looks up at a house that must have been for sale for at least two years, it feels like my brain has turned to mush. Because how is this a surprise? I have seen this house all my life, and I walk past it every day on my way to the shop, so it’s not very surprising, is it?

“When I told you I could get used to living here…”

Oh, shit.

“What do you think?” he asks, but there are too many thoughts going around in my head. So many, that I can’t pick out a single one, and they are all starting to blur into one big ‘ _what the fuck?_ ’. “Do you think we’ll be able to make it our own?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know it’s too soon to move in together, but maybe, when you feel like you’re ready for that step…”

“Armie, stop it. You can’t just… this isn’t… what are you…”

“I like it here, Timmy,” he says, as he places his hands on the sides of my neck, a big, excited grin on his face. Too excited, if you ask me. “I want to live here, with you.”

“But what about your work? Your family?”

“I told you, I can help out at the shop.”

“That was a joke, Armie! You’re an actor!”

I know that I am raising my voice, in the middle of the street, and I really wish I wasn’t, but seriously, what the fuck?

“So? It’s just work. I can find a job here, or maybe I’ll just take on some small jobs, so I won’t be away for too long. We can fix this place up, turn it into our own little palace…”

“You can’t just give up on all that you’ve worked so hard for. Look at how popular you are, look at how many movies you have coming out… you can’t just walk away from that,” I try, the last month flashing through my mind. Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than to have Armie here with me, but I can’t let him give up on everything he has worked for, just for me.

“I don’t care about all that. I told you, I only want to make movies that mean something. I can still do that, and live a quiet life here with you. I don’t want to be away for months on end.”

“You can’t do that, Armie.”

“Why not? I don’t care about everything that comes with it. I’d much rather have a normal job here,” he says, and I really want to believe him. But if I let him walk away from everything he knows, he will grow to hate me for it. He will grow bored, he will begin to miss his old life, his career, and it will be all my fault.

“You can’t do that. You’re Armie…”

“Armie Fucking Hammer?” he suggests, such a heartbroken look on his face, that all I want to do is kiss him and tell him I love him. But before I can even open my mouth, he continues. “Is that it? You only want to be with me if I’m Armie Hammer, the actor? You’re only interested, so long as I’m him?”

“No, of course not! That’s not fair, and you know it!” I spit out. “But that is who you are. You told me yourself, you have always wanted to act. So you can’t just throw it all away for someone you hardly even know.”

“It’s not who I am though, is it? It’s only the work that I do, but you still can’t see that, can you? You don’t want to be with me, you just want to be with that guy you see in the movies.”

“That is not fair!”

It isn’t, but I can tell how hurt he is, and that none of this would have happened if I had just told him how much I love the house. If I had just played along with this fantasy about our future together.

“No, Timothée, it isn’t fucking fair! I thought we had gotten past all that, but the minute I tell you I want to walk away from all that, because I am sick of that life, you tell me to go back. I thought that what we had was real, but…”

“It is!”

“You have no idea what’s real and what isn’t. You are so lost in your own little world, that you can’t see something real when it’s standing right in front of you!” he spits out, every word hitting me like a punch in the gut. I want to tell him that he’s wrong, that I love him more than I can tell him, more than I dare to tell him, but the lump in my throat is too big. Because every time I had messed up, he had forgiven me, not once had he held it against me. So to see him like this, to hear him say these things to me, it just show how much I have hurt him.

“Armie…”

“Go home, Timothée.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's keep that happy ending tag in mind, eh? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised a happy ending, but how about some more drama before we get there?

**Day 52**

I wish I could say that I had gone back to see Armie, that I had apologised and we had made up. That by now we’d have the key to our own house, and we’d be planning that fairy tale future together. But I had been so angry with myself, that I had ignored Armie’s texts. I guess he really was hurt, because he hadn’t shown up at the shop, and I hadn’t heard any more from him.

I had considered going over to see him, but I felt like I had no right to, and by the time I had changed my mind, I found out that Armie had already left. The shoot had moved on to the new location, and sure, I could have given Armie a call, but I’m not going to lie, I was hurt that he had left without saying goodbye. So I had told myself to get over it, and to move on. I had messed it up, so I had no right to sit around and feel sorry for myself.

There have been tears though, more than I would like to admit. But I have kept busy at the shop, and I have spent most of my spare time writing new stories. It helps, to write about Armie, to slowly but surely get into a headspace where I can start seeing him as the actor on the screen again, the man I can write stories about without getting fantasy and reality mixed up.

Or so I tell myself.

I’m struggling to get over Armie, and every time I see or hear his name, my heart still makes a little jump. But with time, I’m sure it’ll be just like nothing ever happened between us at all. After all, we only had a few weeks together, so I can’t let it affect the rest of my life.

Right?

I’m just putting up a sign for a new drink that’s been added to the menu, one of the many drinks I have come up with over the last couple of weeks, when a woman comes into the shop, talking loudly to whoever she is video calling.

“Babe? Are you still there?” she asks, “Babe? Oh, for… call me later!”

She ends the call, before coming over to me, flashing a big smile.

“Sorry about that, the connection here is terrible,” she laughs, but then she gives me a once-over, and she flashes another smile. I’m not used to women looking at me for longer than a second, so I’m not quite sure what this look means. I do know that it’s making me feel a little uncomfortable though.

“You’re Timothée, aren’t you?”

“Yeah… how do you know?”

“Armie told me all about this place.”

The woman looks up at the menu, her eyes scanning over everything we offer, and I feel like I should say something. But who is she? How does she know Armie? Why did he tell her about the shop? About me? How much does she know?

“Ah, you still have the ‘unicorn surprise’?” she laughs, when she spots it on the menu. “Armie told me it’s great.”

He did?  
Seriously, who is she?

“Sorry, I’m Elizabeth.” She smiles, sticking out her hand, and as I shake it, I try to flash an ‘ _of course, Elizabeth!_ ’- kind of smile. But I have no idea who she is. I can tell by the smile on her face that she assumes I have heard all about her though.

“Timothée.”

“Yeah, I know,” she laughs. “God, Armie has told me so much about this little coffee shop. Every time he called me, he had just gotten back from this place, or he was just heading out to go here… you must have gotten sick of him being here all the time!”

Who. Is. She?

Deep down I know. Maybe I knew it the second she walked in. But I don’t want to give into that gut feeling, because if it’s right, it means that Armie lied to me all along.  
It means that none of it was real. That every time I had had doubts, I had been right. That that son of a bitch was just using me to pass the time while he was here. And those fantasies about the future? They were nothing but lies too.

“He told me about you too,” Elizabeth goes on, as I try to focus on making her rainbow drink, trying really hard not to add some salt, some soap… “You used to hang out together, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, we hung out a few times.”

I somehow doubt he told this woman that we weren’t just ‘hanging out’, but that we had actually gone out on a few dates, that I had spent a few nights in his bed. I almost tell her, but it’s none of my business anymore, is it? All I have to do is fake a smile, make her a drink, then spend tonight in bed, crying my eyes out about this. But I’m sure I will get over this too.

Eventually.

“He really likes you, you know?” Elizabeth asks, but it feels like a throwaway comment, because she’s typing away on her phone, so I don’t even bother replying. “He was so upset when you two got into a fight, just days before he had to leave! I know he would have loved to keep in touch with you.”

“Sure…”

I hand her the drink, and without looking up, she hands me her money. I was hoping she would take her drink and leave, but she sits down at one of the tables, and without hesitation, she begins to pose with the sparkly rainbow drink, the phone still in her hand. I’ve seen it happen so many times that it doesn’t bother me anymore, but when she closes the social media app, and I see the background picture on her phone, the picture of her and Armie, kissing, my legs almost give out.

Sure, I knew she must be his girlfriend. But to actually see it, to have it confirmed that whatever we had had wasn’t real, it makes me feel sick to my stomach. It was bad enough, things having ended the way they did, but at least I had still had my memories of our time together. It had still been real to me, and that had meant more to me than I can even put into words. Knowing that he had had a girlfriend all along, that everything he had told me was a lie, it is so much worse than the fact that it had ended in the first place.

“You should give him a call,” Elizabeth says, looking up from her phone. “I know he misses you.”

“Yeah…”

I am trying to come up with an excuse to stop talking to her, but it looks like I don’t need one, because her phone rings, and she gets the biggest smile on her face when she checks it out.

“Babe!”

Well, fuck.

“Guess where I am?” she laughs, before showing off her unicorn surprise. I can hear Armie laughing, and I hate to admit it, but I can feel a small smile forming on my face, because it takes me back to all the times he had sat at that table, laughing, mostly at something stupid I had said or done.

“You’re at Chalamet’s?”

“I am! Timothée is here too,” Elizabeth says, before turning the phone around. I give an awkward little wave, and even from where I’m standing, I can see the guilty look on Armie’s face. I try not to show how much it hurts to see him, to have his girlfriend here, so I force a smile onto my face, hoping that just for once, he won’t see right through it. That just this once, I can make him believe that I don’t care anymore.

“You were right, babe, this drink is amazing!”

“I knew you’d like it. I ehm… I have to get back to work, but I just wanted to wish you good luck tonight.”

“Aww, thanks, babe! I love you.”

“I have to go now,” Armie says, and Elizabeth blows a kiss to him through the phone, before ending the call.

“I have a meeting tonight,” Elizabeth explains. “If all goes well, you are looking at the new face of one of the biggest shows in the world.”

“Wow… good luck.”

I hope you don’t get the job, and I’ll never have to see your face again. Now fuck off.

Fine, I know it isn’t fair to blame Elizabeth for all of this, but I don’t have to like her, do I?

“It was nice to meet you, Timothée.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Before Elizabeth has even left the shop, my phone is already buzzing in my pocket, and I already know who it is. So I take it out, and all I can do is roll my eyes when I see a string of texts from Armie coming in.

I almost want to ignore them, or delete them without reading them, but we all know how I still feel about him, so of course I have to know what he has to say for himself.

_I am so sorry, Timmy.  
Please don’t hate me.  
Call me?  
Let me explain.  
Please.  
I love you._


	29. Chapter 29

**Day 53**

Armie had called a dozen times last night, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. I was too angry with him, and I knew that if I’d talk to him, it would only end in another argument. So I had ignored all his calls, but this time it looks like he isn’t going to give up. Because even as Harley and I are trying to keep ourselves busy by guessing the flavour of today’s cake (Harley swears it’s some kind of fruit, but it reminds me of a spice, although I can’t remember which one), my phone keeps buzzing. I don’t even have to check anymore, because I already know that it’s Armie, still texting and calling me.

“What’s going on?” Harley asks. “I would ask you if you had met someone, but if you did, you’d probably be with him, not with me, eating some… seriously, what is this?” they ask, before taking another bite of the cake.

“It’s Armie.”

“You’re still talking to him? I thought things didn’t work out?”

“They didn’t,” I grit through my teeth, the image of Elizabeth with that goddamned unicorn surprise in her hand still fresh on my mind. “You’ll never guess who showed up here yesterday.”

“He was here?”

“No.”

I wish.

“His girlfriend was here,” I say, the cake in my hand slowly being ground down into a mush. “Elizabeth.”

“His… oh, shit… do you think he already knew her when you two were still together?” Harley asks, “Did she know about you?”

“She was his girlfriend when he was still here,” I explain, but Harley just stares at me, probably not sure how to react. “Yeah, I guess he wasn’t the nice guy he made himself out to be after all.”

“I’m so sorry, Tim. What did he say? Did he at least come up with some kind of excuse for what he did to you?”

“I haven’t spoken to him. I’m scared I’ll lose it, and we’ll have another fight.”

“Good! Tell him how much of a dick he is!” Harley says, and I guess they have made up their mind about how to react then. “He used you! He cheated on his girlfriend… I don’t care if he is Mr. fucking Hollywood, you can’t just let him get away with that.”

“I don’t want to talk to him anymore. What’s the point? It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing.”

That’s probably why he chose to go after me. He saw me as someone easy, someone weak. He knew I would fall for all of his bullshit. For that fucking smile of his.

“So you’re okay with not knowing what he has to say?”

No.  
Of course I want to know.

I just don’t want to fight with him again. And maybe I’m also scared to get hurt even worse. Now I know what he has done to me, but I don’t actually want to hear him say the words. I don’t want to hear him explain why he decided to mess around with me, behind some woman’s back. Why he decided to lie to me for weeks, then let me believe that I was the one who had messed up everything. Because what if I hadn’t messed it up that day? What would have happened then? How would he have gotten out of it then?

“Call him. Even if only just to tell him how you feel,” Harley says. “Maybe it’ll give you some kind of closure.”

“I doubt it.”

“You know you deserve better than him, right?”

Better than Armie? I doubt that too.

“You deserve to be with someone who can give you his all,” Harley says, before opening up their arms, a small smile on their face. I give them a big hug, trying to ignore the guilt I’m feeling about all the things I had thought about Harley. I thought they were going to try and steal Armie away from me, and I had always kind of ignored them. But through all of this, they have been here for me, and it turns out they’re actually a really good friend.

“I have a confession to make,” I say, when they let go of me. “I thought you were interested in Armie too.”

“What?” Harley laughs. “Me? Why?”

“Because when you were with your friends, you called him hot. And well… I thought that if he figured out you were interested in him too, he’d prefer you over me.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Tim,” Harley laughs, rolling their eyes. “Armie only had eyes for you. I doubt he even knows who I am.”

“Yeah, but…”

“And that girl who has been picking me up from work for the last year or so?”

“What girl?”

“You really do live in your own little world, don’t you?” Harley laughs, shaking their head, before grabbing another slice of fruit or spice-flavored cake. “I’ll introduce her to you when she picks me up later.”

“You have a girlfriend?”

“A fiancée.”

“You’re engaged?”

“Yeah… that’s what that means,” Harley laughs. “You really thought I was interested in Armie? We don’t all want to fuck Mr. Hollywood, you know?”

“I didn’t want to…”

“Have him suck your dick in the storeroom?”

I don’t like that knowing grin on Harley’s face. But maybe they’re just good at guessing what happened, right?

“My friends love your stories. They made me read one, and I didn’t think too much of it, until…”

“Until you saw us in the storeroom,” I realize, finally understanding why they had looked like they had just figured something out. “Did you tell anyone?”

“That I work together with the guy who wrote that story? Fuck no. It’s bad enough my friends know I met Armie. They are still pissed that I didn’t call them when he came in again. You think I’m going to tell them that I know you?”

“Thanks…”

“Does Armie know you wrote that stuff?”

Yeah, he does. He probably knows all about the stories I have written since he has left too. I have gotten a ton of anonymous comments since, and some of them could have been Armie’s, but I have ignored them all, because what was I meant to say? I wasn’t even sure if they were his anyway.

My phone buzzes again, and I almost pick it up, just to turn it off. But Harley manages to grab it before me, and before I can do anything, they have already answered.

“No, this is Harley… yeah, from the shop. What do you want?”

Wow, Harley really isn’t an Armie fan. Maybe I should just let them take care of this for me.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you. You’re a liar, and a cheat, so what do you expect?... Well, that’s bullshit. You either man the fuck up and explain to him exactly why you did what you did, or you… I don’t care!”

I can see the look on Harley’s face changing from anger to understanding, and I wonder what Armie is telling them. It’s probably just another excuse though.

“Talk to him,” Harley finally says, before handing me the phone. “Trust me.”

“No, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Tim. Talk to him.”

I guess I could just hang up the phone, it should be pretty easy. But I don’t. Instead, I leave the shop, and I sit down on a bench, before finally bringing the phone up to my ear.

“Armie?”

“Timothée?”

Just to hear Armie’s voice again, it makes me feel a lump in my throat, and although I am still upset with him, it brings back all the times we had spent together. From the first time he had come into the shop, to our first date, even to the day we had gotten into that argument about that goddamned house.

“I am so sorry,” Armie begins, but when I can’t bring myself to say anything, he continues. “I should have told you about her.”

“You think?”

“Please let me explain?”

“What is there to explain? You have a girlfriend,” I say, the word still feeling like a punch in the gut. “I don’t care anymore, Armie.”

“I do. I care about you, Timmy.”

“Don’t call me that. You lied to me. You told me you wanted to be with me, you even showed me some fucking house, and you made it out like we were going to live there,” I spit out, “When all along, you had a girlfriend waiting for you back home. What were you going to do, huh? Spend one week with me, then a week with her?”

“Timothée…”

“No, fuck you, Armie! Do you have any idea what it was like to have…”

That was it. That’s why he brought me to the house that day. He knew that it would be too much for me, that I wouldn’t just accept it and be happy about his big ‘surprise’. He wanted there to be a fight that day.

“You wanted an out,” I say, but there is no reply. “That’s why you got so angry with me at the house. It played out exactly like you wanted it to. You wanted things to end that day, so you could go back to Elizabeth…”

“Is that what you think?” Armie asks, his voice shaking, and if I didn’t know any better, I would say he was on the verge of tears. “I bought that house to live there with you, Timmy. I never wanted to fight with you.”

“So…”

Wait, what?

He bought the house?

I thought he took me there to show me what he wanted for us eventually. Who the fuck buys a house to move in with someone they hardly even know? When they have a girlfriend waiting for them back home?

What is wrong with this guy?

“I wanted to be with you.”

“You have a girlfriend, Armie! Don’t fucking lie to me. She was here.”

“Then give me a chance to explain.”

“I don’t want to hear it. You used me,” I say, tears of frustration falling from my eyes. “Go talk to Elizabeth, maybe she still wants to put up with your bullshit. But I’m done.”

“Timmy…”

“Go to hell, Armie.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Day 57**

I am just about to get ready for work when there’s a knock on my bedroom door. I am half-expecting my mom to come barging in, to check in to see if I’m okay after what had happened the other day. It had really gotten to me, maybe even more than the fight I had had with Armie before he had left. So I had spent the last few days holed up in my room, watching Netflix and stuffing my face with anything I could get my hands on.

“Timmy?”

I must be imagining it, because surely Armie isn’t outside my room right now. He is probably still out there, either working, or spending the day in bed with Elizabeth… kissing her… touching her, like he had once touched me… I can’t let myself go there anymore, or there will be even more tears, and I am done crying over him.

“Are you in there?”

I open the door, and Armie is standing there, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. He reaches out as though he is going to hug me, but he seems to change his mind, because he folds his arms in front of himself, looking more than just a little uncomfortable.

“Can we talk?”

“There is nothing to say, Armie. Just go home, please.”

“Not before you let me explain.”

I guess there’s no getting out of this then.

I let him into my room, and I close the door behind him. But when he sits down on my bed, I almost tell him I’ve changed my mind, and that he needs to go. I keep quiet though, and I sit down at my desk.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Every time you were on your phone, you were talking to her, weren’t you?” I ask, the thought having been going through my mind these last few days far too much. “It wasn’t for work. You were just texting your girlfriend, while you were at the shop, flirting with me. Telling me you wanted to be with me.”

“Yeah…”

“I told you I struggled to believe that any of it was true, and you got upset that I didn’t believe you. You made me feel like I was a dick for not believing you, when all along, you were lying to my face about everything.”

“I wasn’t…”

“You have a girlfriend, for fuck sake! You don’t say ‘I love you’ to someone, or promise them some kind of future, when you’re already in a relationship. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”

I wish I hadn’t told him that. I don’t want him to know that I’m hurting. I just want him to know that I’m angry, and that I am over him. I want him to leave here, hating himself for what he has done.

But I also want to tell him I still love him, and that I forgive him. We can find a way past this. But that’s not realistic, is it? Because he is still with Elizabeth.

“I was going to tell her about you, about us,” Armie says, but his words feel meaningless. “but I didn’t want to tell her over the phone. So I was going to wait until I could tell her face to face.”

“She was here, Armie. You didn’t tell her a goddamned thing about us. You’re still with her!”

“Because you told me to fuck off, remember?” he asks, but then he sighs. “When I left this place, I was confused, and I was hurting. I wanted to tell her, but she was there, and she just… I don’t know, man. I didn’t want to lose her too.”

“You’re an asshole. You know that? You were going to dump her, but then I told you to fuck off, so then she was good enough again? That’s not fair on her.”

Am I really sticking up for Armie’s girlfriend now?

“I know, okay? But I love you, and I have never felt this strongly about anyone ever before, and the thought of having lost you… I fucked up, okay? I should have told her, but she was there for me.”

“I am done with this. This… you… it’s too much for me.”

“I told her, Timmy. After I spoke to you the other day, I told her. I should have told her the moment I had met you, and I know I can’t change what I did, but I really want to make it up to you,” he says, and weeks ago I would have had no hesitation to give him another chance. But he lied to me. What if this is another lie? What if he goes back to her after he’s done here, and I’m just the idiot who keeps falling for his bullshit over and over again? “I still want to be with you.”

“Are you in love with Elizabeth?”

“No. I was, but it was over long before I met you,” he says, but then he sighs, a guilty look on his face. “We should have ended it, but we were both too busy, too caught up in other things. It was easier to stay together, to pretend things were okay.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me again?”

He takes out his phone, and he shows me the texts between him and Elizabeth from last night. I scroll through them, scared to find an ‘I love you’, something, anything that shows me they are still together. But they are discussing their living arrangements. Armie offered to let Elizabeth live in the apartment, even though it’s his, and it ends with him saying he will pick up his things later this week.

“Please let me make it up to you.”

“Did you really love me?”

I know I shouldn’t ask, but I have to. I have to know what was real and what wasn’t.

“Did I love you? Are you kidding me?” he asks, and even though I can see him trying to fight it, a smile still forms on his face. “I am in love with you, Timmy. I bought a house for us, for fuck sake!”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Wrong with me?” he laughs. “I love you. I told you, I want to be with you.”

“Yeah, but you said a lot of things, didn’t you?”

“I know I messed up, but I swear, the only thing I lied about was Elizabeth, I…”

“The only thing? You cheated, Armie.”

He looks down at his hands, a guilty look on his face, and the longest silence follows. I know I should tell him to go home, that we’re done, that I deserve better. But I am still head over heels in love with this man, and I guess I haven’t always been the perfect boyfriend either. Sure, I wasn’t hiding a boyfriend from him, but if he was able to forgive me and give me another chance, over and over again, then shouldn’t I be able to give him another chance too?

If I send him away now, won’t I just live to regret it for the rest of my life?

“You really bought the house?”

“Yes,” Armie chuckles uncomfortably. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It was.”

“I wanted it to be our home, Timmy, where we can start our life together, maybe one day raise our…”

“Don’t.”

“Too soon?” he laughs, but his face turns a dark shade of red, and I can tell that this is something that he has given a lot of thought. “I know I don’t deserve another chance, after what I’ve done. But I need you to know that I didn’t lie to you.”

He definitely did lie to me.

“You are the person I want to be with, and if you are willing to give me another chance, then I promise I will do everything I can to make it up to you.”

Do I trust him enough to give him another chance? What is going to happen the next time he is on his phone? Am I going to get jealous and start a fight? That’s not how I want to be in a relationship. But I still have his phone in my hand, and as I read through the messages again, I feel a small smile forming on my face.

“You know you don’t just have to make it up to me, right?”

“You told your parents?”

“And Harley.”

“Oh, yeah. I know Harley is pissed off. But I will talk to them, and to your parents, if you want me to apologize to them,” Armie says, and even though I can’t deny that I’m still hurt, I am beginning to see him as the man who had come into the shop again. I am beginning to feel like we _can_ get past this.

“Are we going to be okay?” he asks me, not even trying to hide behind that confident façade anymore.

“I hope so.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Day 58**

Armie had taken me out to dinner last night, and although there had still been a little bit of awkwardness, it had surprisingly quickly began to feel like just another date. A follow-up to what had started almost two months ago.

Things had gotten a whole lot more awkward again when we had sat down at the breakfast table this morning though. I had told my parents all about Elizabeth, so for Armie to now be back in my life, like nothing had happened, only days later, it obviously didn’t make any sense to them. It wouldn’t have made any sense to me either. But they were polite enough not to ask us anything about what had happened.

I can’t say the same for Harley though, because as soon as we had come into the shop, Harley had stepped out from behind the counter, ready for a fight. A part of me wanted to defend Armie, but instead I had stood back, deciding that whatever Harley was about to say or do, Armie had had it coming.

“You know you don’t deserve him, right?” Harley asks, Armie just nodding, an embarrassed look on his face. “I don’t give a fuck who you are, Armie. What you did to him… if I ever find out you have done something like that to him again…”

“It won’t happen again,” Armie says, and well, if it does happen again, it’s not just Harley he will have to worry about. I’m pretty sure it’s my mom he should be worried about too, because after the things she said about him these last days, it’s a miracle she didn’t kick him out as soon as she had seen him this morning.

“I _will_ find you.”

I try hard to keep a straight face, because as much as I love Harley, I very much doubt they would be able to take on Armie. But I appreciate the thought.

“I know,” Armie says, flashing an uncomfortable smile. “He is lucky to have you looking out for him.”

“He is.” Harley agrees. “But he wouldn’t need me to look out for him in the first place if you hadn’t…”

“Harley!” I warn them, but they just glare at Armie. “It’s fine.”

“You made up? So I don’t have to keep up the whole…”

“No,” I laugh. “We’re all good.”

“Oh, thank fuck for that,” Harley laughs, their whole demeanour changing within a split-second. “So we’re done with the moping around?”

“I wasn’t…”

Yeah, I was definitely moping, probably more than I should have. But can you blame me?

I can tell that Harley has already forgiven Armie, that they had probably forgiven him the moment they had spoken to him on the phone and he had explained what was really going on. It’s good to know that they were willing to stay angry with him in case I was still upset with him though. It makes me feel like they’ll have my back when Armie messes up again.

If.

Not when.

Okay, so maybe I haven’t forgiven him completely yet myself. But I’m sure it will happen in time.

“It’s good to see you again,” Harley says, a friendly smile on their face, but when they give Armie a hug, I can tell that they are whispering something in his ear. Armie’s eyes grow big, but he fakes a smile as Harley steps back, trying his best to pretend that nothing has happened.

“Did you just threaten him again?”

“No!”

“Harley?”

“Maybe.”

* * *

Armie had spent the whole day at the shop, and he had even asked me to teach him a thing or two. That whole fantasy about him working there still seems a little absurd, but I’m not going to lie, it was nice to have him there. I could definitely get used to it. But people had recognised him too, and the girls whispering too loudly to their friends, or the men unable to keep their eyes off him, that is something that I don’t think I can get used to. Not at the shop. Because that is our place, where we had been able to live in a bubble. To have to share him there with other people, it feels wrong. Intrusive somehow.

I suppose I will just have to put up with it though, because as we had left the shop, he was so excited about working there, that I hadn’t been able to get a word in, not until we reached my parents’ house.

“I should go.”

“Where are you staying? How long are you even here for?” I ask, because let’s face it, this trip wasn’t exactly planned, was it?

Armie just shrugs, clearly not having thought any of this through before he came here.

“When will you have to go back?”

“I’m supposed to be working right now,” Armie admits. “So if anyone asks, I’m at home, in bed with the flu.”

“You lied?”

Again?

Not fair. He apologized and explained, remember?

“You’re more important.” He shrugs, before wrapping his arms around me, and pulling me close. “I love you, and we…,” he begins, but he must notice the uncomfortable look on my face, because he rests his head against mine, an understanding smile on his face. “I’m not expecting you to say it back to me. Not anymore. Not yet. But I love you, Timmy, you know that’s not a lie, right?”

“I know.”

I do know, I guess, but as much as I want things to go back to the way they were before we had gotten into that fight about the house, it still feels too fresh, too raw. I can forgive him, I already have, for the most part, but it’s going to take a long time for me to forget about this.

“When we go in, I’d like to talk to your parents first. I’d like to sit down with them and explain to them what happened,” Armie says, and I can see that he is nervous, probably expecting to get kicked out as soon as he mentions Elizabeth, but I’m proud of him for being willing to do this.

“I bet you wish you had brought flowers now.”

“I doubt they would help,” he chuckles nervously, as we step into the house, my mom and dad in the kitchen, happily chatting away. I hope they’ll still be this happy once they’ve spoken to Armie, but somehow I very much doubt it.

“Mom, dad?”

They are really trying their best to hide how upset they are with Armie, but when my dad wraps an arm around my mom’s shoulder, I can tell that she is struggling. I probably would be too, if I was her. Parents want the best for their kids, right? So who would want their son to get back with the guy who has not once, but twice broken his heart in just over a month? Not that that was all on Armie, but still. Looking at my mom’s face, I can tell that she is definitely blaming him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Chalamet, I would like to apologise, for…”

“Hurting our son?” mom asks, her face flushing from embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I…”

“No, you are right, and if you will give me the chance to explain...”

“Why don’t you go to the living room? I’ll make you a coffee?” I suggest, wanting nothing more than for this awkwardness to be over. I can see my parents hesitating, but they share a look, before leading Armie out of the kitchen.

I try to focus on making a coffee, but when I realize I can overhear the conversation, I drop everything, because I want to know what Armie tells them. And I want to know what my parents say, because if they can’t forgive him, then how is this supposed to work? I don’t want to have to choose between them.

“Is it true?” mom asks. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I did,” Armie admits. “and I didn’t tell Timothée about it. I should have.”

“No, Armie. You shouldn’t have started anything with him, not if you have a girlfriend. It’s not about telling him, it’s about…”

“I know,” Armie quickly says. “I was going to end my relationship with my girlfriend, so I could be with him, but that doesn’t make it right. I know it doesn’t.”

“How do we know that you won’t do the same thing to him, the next time someone catches your eye?” dad asks, and I almost begin to feel sorry for Armie.

Almost.

“You don’t, I suppose. I can only promise you that I am serious about my relationship with…”

“And you weren’t serious about your relationship with your girlfriend?”

“Things hadn’t been right for a long time,” Armie admits. “but I am ashamed of what I did, Mr. and Mrs. Chalamet. I know I have hurt her, and I have hurt Timothée. I wish I could go back and do it right this time, but…”

“Do it right? What does that mean?” dad asks. “You wouldn’t have cheated?”

“I would have told her about Timothée, and I would have waited to ask him out.”

‘Ask me out’. Flirt with me and kiss me, more like. The dates didn’t come until later, did they?

“I regret the way I chose to go about it, but I do not regret my relationship with your son,” Armie says. Hearing him say those words makes me want to go in there and kiss him, tell him ‘I love you’, then drag him upstairs… but I somehow don’t think that would be the best thing to do right now.

“How is this going to work, Armie?” mom asks, and even without seeing her, I can tell that she is on the verge of tears. “You are a celebrity, and Tim, he is…”

“I love him.”

“I believe you. But I will not let my son become your dirty little secret. He deserves…”

“He won’t,” Armie quickly says, not giving mom a chance to finish her sentence. “He’s not. I have already told him, I don’t care who knows about us. I love him, and I am serious about our future together. I don’t know if he has told you, but…”

Don’t tell my parents about the house.

Don’t do it.

“I bought a house.”

Of course.

“A house?” dad asks, not even trying to hide how shocked he is. “Where?”

That’s it, I’m going in. Let’s try and fix this situation, before my mom has a breakdown about me moving to who knows where, with the guy who up until a few days ago still had a girlfriend. What happened to the days where things were simple? Where we could hide at the shop, have a laugh, a kiss, or we could go for a walk, a picnic…

Who am I kidding? Things were never going to be simple with Armie, were they?

“Did you know about the house?” mom asks, as soon as I walk into the room. Without coffee, because I was too busy listening in on them to actually get around to making it.

“Yeah…”

That goddamned house.

“You really are serious about this, then?” dad asks, and Armie nods, taking my hand as I sit down next to him. “I am not going to lie, Armie, I am not sure what to think about all this, but Tim is old and wise enough to make his own decisions. If he trusts you, then…” Dad sighs, taking his time to come up with what to say next, probably trying of a way to put things nicely. “It’s not up to us. But I appreciate you sitting us down to apologize.”

“I want to be with him,” I say, hoping it will reassure my parents, but I know it’s going to take more than this to trust Armie again. “He’s not the only one who messed up, okay? I hurt him, too. I know that you’re probably thinking, if you’re already hurting each other, why be in a relationship? But you know what? I love him, and I really think we can make this work.”

I definitely wasn’t planning on telling them that. Or Armie. But I guess it’s too late to take it back now, isn’t it?

“I suppose that’s that, then,” mom says, a teary smile forming on her face. “How are we meant to object to that?”

“So if I want to move in with him…”

Armie tightens his grip on my hand, and from the corner of my eye I can see the smile on his face beginning to grow bigger. I keep my eyes on my parents though, terrified of their reaction. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up today. Maybe I should have accepted their approval and waited to take the next step, I don’t know, two or three months. But we all know that I don’t always think things through before I say them.

“In the house Armie bought?” dad asks. “Because if you’re thinking about running off to LA, then…”

“No! I’m not leaving. Armie is moving here.”

“You know what this town is like, don’t you?” mom asks. “This isn’t Hollywood.”

“That’s exactly why I want to live here,” Armie explains. “I want to have a normal, quiet life with Timmy, far away from all that.”

Oh, yes, the normal, quiet life. Just as it’s been so far in the time we’ve been together…

I seriously doubt we’ll ever have a quiet life. After all, this is Armie Hammer we’re talking about. Dating him is always going to come with a little extra, isn’t it?

But I don’t mind. I’ll take everything that comes with it. Because if there’s one thing I realized in the last month, it’s that I don’t ever want to be apart from Armie again. Sure, I know that we won’t always be able to be together, not with his work, but at least we’ll still be able to talk to each other. Being without him, not being able to talk to him, it made me realize just how much I actually like him, how much I like to spend time with him, even if it’s just to go for a walk, or to have a coffee together. And sure, I know we’ll still have our fair share of bad days, because let’s face it, we’re still getting to know each other, so who knows what else we’ll find out about each other. But I’ll take the bad days, all of them, because they don’t matter, as long as we’re together.

Right?


	32. Chapter 32

**Day 67**

Armie had left the morning after talking to my parents, and when we had said goodbye, it didn’t feel like a goodbye at all. I knew he was only going to pick up his things from the apartment, then go off to work for a few days, before coming back here. It felt like things were finally heading into the right direction. That fairy tale ending was starting to feel more like reality, and I couldn’t have been happier.

But my phone has been buzzing all morning, and that’s usually not a good sign. I quickly checked, but I only saw chat notifications, so I had ignored it, because it probably meant that some new picture was released of Armie’s new movie, or maybe a new project was announced. I feel like I should know, but Harley is telling me about their upcoming wedding, and to be honest, I’m more interested in hearing about that than about checking out some picture of… well, my boyfriend.

But when Julia, Harley’s fiancée comes in, a worried look on her face, we stop talking, quickly realizing that something more is going on.

“Did you see?”

“See what?” Harley asks, but I’m already getting my phone out, and there are a dozen of texts from Armie, the first one a link to an article. I’m still telling myself that it must be about some new project, or maybe he’s been announced as the host of… who knows what? It has to be good news, right?

But as soon as the article has loaded, and I see the headline, my legs feel like they are about to give out. I scan over the article, over the details about Armie having cheated on his girlfriend, with a guy he met while shooting his latest movie. It says that he came out recently after having been caught out, and I can’t keep my eyes from going back to the ‘ **Armie Hammer’s gay lover!** ’ headline. There are even pictures of him with Finn, with guys I have never seen before, but they look like selfies that were taken at a party, and I doubt that Armie has been with any of these guys.

I can’t believe this is happening, especially after things were just going well for us. Because sure, he said that he didn’t care about people finding out about us, but I don’t think he was expecting to be outed like this. I don’t think he was expecting our relationship to be made out to be his ‘big gay secret’.

I have no idea how he’ll react to this.

I don’t have to wait long though, because Armie storms in, looking more than just a little flushed. Without saying a word, he wraps his arms around me, but I still can’t tell if this is an ‘ _I’m so sorry, but this was it_ ’ kind of hug, or an ‘ _I love you, and we will deal with this together_ ’ kind of hug. I’m too nervous to ask though.

“I am so sorry,” he whispers, his arms holding me so tightly, that it’s almost beginning to hurt. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?”

“You know who did this, right?” he asks, but no. How am I supposed to know? He better not be thinking that I’m the one who did this. I haven’t even told anyone about our relationship, other than my family, Harley and Julia. And I know for sure that none of them would have outed us, even if they all could have done with the money.

“Who?” Harley asks, and Armie lets go of me. Now that I can really look at him, I fully realize just how tired he looks, how worried.

When I had just scrolled through the article, I had only worried about what this would do to him, emotionally, being outed like this. But it’s now starting to dawn on me just what this could do to his career. He has been photographed with all those women, and in most of his movies he is cast as the guy all the girls are fawning over. Will he even be able to get those roles now? I know it shouldn’t matter, but you hear these stories about out gay actors not being able to get work anymore, and if that’s what happens to Armie… because of me… I don’t think I would ever be able to forgive myself for that.

“My ex did this. She was the only one who knew about this.”

“Elizabeth?”

“She has been trying to get on tv for years,” Armie explains, “This? It puts her name out there without her having to even try.”

“Yeah, but now she’s only known as the woman you cheated on,” Julia tries, but I can tell from Harley’s face, that they are beginning to see the full picture.

I am seeing it too. Because even though it was an ‘anonymous source’ that outed Armie, everyone will now want to hear the details from the ‘poor girlfriend’. She will get on tv, doing interviews, playing the victim, and soon enough everyone will know her. It won’t take long before someone will offer her a job, trying to ride the waves of this scandal, hoping having Elizabeth on their show will draw in a whole new load of viewers.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Harley asks, but Armie just shrugs. “You’ll have to say something, won’t you?”

“I don’t know. Do I?”

“You can’t just let her get away with this. She had no right telling people about this.”

“What? Telling people the truth?” Armie asks. “I did cheat on her. I am… whatever. In a relationship with the guy I cheated on her with. So what am I meant to say? It’s the truth.”

“You could deny it,” I suggest, and the three of them look at me, probably expecting me to be the last to come with this suggestion. “Get photographed with Madeline again. Just say that you and Elizabeth broke up, that that part is true, but the rest isn’t.”

“Why?” Armie asks. “I’m not going to lie, Timmy. I messed up, and I deserve all the shit I am going to get for cheating.”

“And all the shit you are going to get for being with a guy?” Julia asks. “You’ll be known as ‘gay actor Armie Hammer’ from now on. You know that, don’t you?”

“So?” Armie chuckles. “I don’t care.”

“This is going to affect your whole career, Armie,” I say, feeling like he should care. Because it can’t be that we care more than he does. “Have you even thought about…”

“I. Don’t. Care,” Armie says, before putting a hand on the side of my neck. “I told you, didn’t I? I want to live a quiet life, here with you. If this shit means that I’ll never get another job, so be it. I’ll come work here at the shop, or I’ll find another job here in town.”

“He really is perfect, isn’t he?” Julia whispers, a little too loud, and Armie lets out an embarrassed chuckle as he steps away from me.

“Except for that time he had a girlfriend and cheated on her,” Harley adds, their fiancée playfully hitting them in the arm. “I wouldn’t exactly say that was the act of a perfect gentleman, but…”

“Yeah, alright!” Armie laughs. “I think I’m paying for that, don’t you?”

“Wait, what about your parents?” I ask, completely having forgotten about them until now. “What did they say? Had you even told them yet?”

“I tried calling them, but they wouldn’t answer.”

“You didn’t tell your parents?” Julia asks, a worried look on their face.

“My very conservative parents.”

“Oh, wow, this is getting better and better,” Harley laughs. “They didn’t know about Tim yet?”

I look at Armie, trying to look through the smile on his face, expecting there to be nerves, or fear. But he just looks tired.

If I were him, and this would have happened to me, I would have freaked out, but he really doesn’t seem to be too bothered by it. He looked more worried when he came in, but I’m starting to think he was more worried about me than about the situation.

Well, he did tell me, didn’t me? He didn’t care about people finding out about us, but he was willing to keep it quiet until I was ready. I don’t think I was ready yet, but I’m not freaking out like I thought I would. Besides, it’s not like I’m the one who was outed, because my name isn’t actually in the article. It just says that he met a guy here in town, and although I’m sure my online friends will be able to put two and two together, I am hoping they will keep quiet, and it will give us just that little bit more time together before it really all comes out.

“What are you going to tell your parents?”

“The truth.” Armie shrugs. “and if they don’t like it… look, I’m not going to lie, it’s going to hurt, but it won’t change anything about me wanting to move here, okay? I don’t care for all that drama out there. And if this is Elizabeth’s way of getting her career on the way… then good for her.”

“That’s it, you’re dumped,” Julia says, Harley rolling their eyes, before glaring at me, probably regretting having introduced their fiancée to Armie. “I want to marry this guy.”

“Sorry,” Armie laughs. “I’m only interested in one person.”

“That’s a first,” Harley mutters under their breath, and I try hard to keep a straight face, but when I see Armie’s face flushing from embarrassment, I can’t keep myself from laughing. I should feel sorry for him, having to put up with Harley’s little digs, but let’s face it, he deserves them, and Harley is only saying what we’re all thinking.

Except for Julia. I think she might only see the good in him. In everyone, to be honest.

“So you’re really just going to ignore all this?” I ask, but Armie just nods, already having moved over to the cake display.

“And what if she mentions Tim? If she is doing this for attention, then telling exactly who you’re dating will give her even more attention, right?”

“If she does that, she’ll have my mom to deal with,” I chuckle uncomfortably, and I can see Armie looking at me with a nervous look on his face. “It doesn’t matter if she tells people. No one knows me anyway.”

“What about your friends?”

My friends would probably freak out, call me a liar, come back here, just to see Armie again. They would bombard me with thousands of questions about it, about Armie. I would probably have to leave our fan group, and I would never hear from them again. Maybe one or two of them would be happy for me, without asking anything of me, but after seeing the way they were around Armie when they were here, I doubt they would leave me alone if they knew I was dating him. I don’t think I’m ready to lose my friends just yet, but if it happens, it won’t be the end of the world, I guess. I’ll still have my family, I’ll have Harley and Julia. Armie.

I’ll be fine.

* * *

When we had gotten home after work, my mom was so worked up over the article that I thought she was going to explode. She was ready to go after whoever had outed Armie, and although I appreciate the fact that she was feeling protective over him, I’m not sure if going after Elizabeth is going to fix anything. So we had sat her down, and we had, calmly, explained to her what was going to happen now. Or rather, Armie had tried to reassure her that this wasn’t going to change anything. He was still going to move here, and he was going to do whatever he could do to keep my name out of it. I could tell that he was making things sound better than they are though, because let’s face it, if someone wants to put my name out there, there is nothing we can do about it, is there? It’s just a matter of time before the whole story comes out.

It had seemed to calm my mom down though, and we had even managed to have a nice, quiet family dinner, without any of it being brought up again.

But when mom asks me if I have a minute to talk, and I see that tired, worried look that I have, unfortunately, seen far too often lately, I know that she hasn’t let go of the subject just yet.

“Are you sure about all of this?” she asks me, as we sit down at the kitchen table. “What happens if people find out you’re his boyfriend? Are you ready for the attention that comes with that? The hate?”

“He’s trying to keep me out of it.”

“I know, and I appreciate that he is trying to protect you, but we both know that sooner or later, people are going to find out. I am worried for you, because he is used to it, but you are not like him. You didn’t choose this life.”

“I did,” I try, but I know what she is saying. “I chose to be with him, and I know what comes with it.”

“Do you? Because I don’t think you realize how hateful people can be online.”

“I do. I see the comments, okay? I know what they are saying about me,” I admit, “but I love him, mom. I can’t let them ruin that for me, can I?”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again. Armie is a charming young man, but I don’t think he is being realistic about the situation you are both in.”

Well, we all know that, don’t we?

“Are you sure you are ready to move in with him? After what he did to you? Do you think you will be able to trust him?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m working on it, and he knows that. But if I don’t take this chance, I am going to regret it for the rest of my life.”

“I feel like it’s moving too fast,” mom sighs, as she brushes the hair out of my face, that worried look on her face making me feel like I’m five years old again. “You don’t have to move in with him if you don’t feel like you’re ready, Tim. Why not take it slow, get to know each other better first?”

“He bought the house for us both to live in…”

“Are you moving in with him because you feel like you have to?”

“No! I don’t know,” I admit, because I know mom is right. It’s too soon. But I also can’t wait to move in with Armie, to have our own place together. “I feel like we can have a fresh start there. You know, we can leave all that stuff with Elizabeth behind us and start over.”

I can tell that mom isn’t convinced. I’m not sure I am even convinced myself. But I know I have to take this chance.

“Whatever happens, you will always have a place here. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know.”

“If you feel like it’s too soon, or things aren’t working out… you come home, okay? Night or day, you come home,” mom says, before wrapping her arms around me. “I do hope it all works out, Tim,” she sighs. “I hate to see you hurting.”

“I’m not,” I reassure her, but it only makes her tighten her grip on me. “I’m happy. Honestly. And it will all work itself out, I’m sure.”

I am definitely not sure, it’s more of a ‘ _let’s send out a quiet prayer to whatever force is out there_ ’ kind of thing. But I guess that’s good enough for now.

“And if things don’t work out…?”

“I’m coming back home. I promise.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Day 77**

Armie had gone back to work the day after the article had come out, and although I would have preferred to have him here with me so we could deal with it together, we’ve been talking and texting day and night, so at least I know he’s doing okay. I’m not sure who needs the constant checking up on each other more though, because it seems like he is more worried about me than about himself, even though he has gone from Hollywood’s golden boy to nothing but a cheater and a liar. It will pass, these things always do, and the real fans will still love him after all this, but it’s still horrible to see people coming out with new lies about him every day. If we were to believe all of it, he has been cheating on every single on of his girlfriends, with just about every actor out there, with every male escort, and he is part of some secret Hollywood club where the guys meet once a month to all hook up with each other.

Is that even a thing?

I really tried to stay away from all it, and to ignore the fan group, where most of the rumours are being discussed, but it’s like driving past an accident. You don’t want to watch, but you know you have to. So I have seen it all, and although most of the fans in the group are defending Armie, and they are saying that he has made a mistake, but at least now he can be himself, it still hurts every time I see someone calling him a liar. Or if someone says he is ‘cancelled’. What does that even mean? Just a week ago, they were all over him, and just because he fucked up, they treat him like he’s a monster?

Let’s be honest, I was angry too, but at least I had a reason. It’s not like any of this is any of anyone’s business, is it?

But I suppose I would have had an opinion about it too, if I hadn’t been part of this situation myself. If I wasn’t ‘the other woman’, or ‘the home wrecker, or ‘the gold-digger’, just to name a few of the things I’ve been called so far. Just imagine what my friends would say if they found out they were actually talking about me!

I have gotten a few messages, asking me if I’m the guy Armie has fallen in love with, but I have ignored them, just like I’m still ignoring the messages CoffeeShopStoryteller is getting. I know I said that I wasn’t going to run away anymore, but I am definitely trying to run away from this for as long as I can. I know it will all come out one day, but that day doesn’t have to be today, does it?

“You look cute like that.”

“Like what?” I mumble, still staring at my phone, as Armie leans over the counter to kiss me.

“Frowning, like an angry little…”

I kiss him, just to shut him up, because I’m not angry. Not really. Annoyed, but not angry.

Not anymore.

“Are you still reading that shit?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you are,” he laughs, taking my phone, and scrolling through the page. “So who am I dating now, huh?”

“They’re still convinced you were dating Finn.”

“Really? I thought they would have come up with someone new by now. I’m disappointed,” he says, but then he shrugs. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

“What?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Not again.

We all know what happened the last time he tried to surprise me.

“Armie…”

“Timmy,” he laughs, raising an eyebrow. “Come on! What do you think it is?”

“The house?”

“Yes, the house. Now will you please close up so we can go?”

I’m not going to lie, I had almost changed my mind and sent Armie a text, telling him it was too soon to move in together. Because well, it is. It’s been two and a half months since we met, but we’ve only been together for what, a month? Less than a month? How would we even count it? From the first kiss, the first date? Did we have to start over after things had gotten messed up because of the house? We have only gotten to spend a handful of days together since all that had happened, because he has been travelling back and forth between work and here, so does that mean that we’ve been together for just a matter of days? The more I think about it, the more I’m starting to think I shouldn’t move in with him.

But being able to live with him, share a bed with him, wake up next to him… that is what I want. Eventually. Just because it’s all happening a bit earlier than I want, doesn’t mean that it won’t be nice, or that we won’t be happy. Right?

“Close your eyes,” Armie says, after he has unlocked the door to the house.

Our house. I guess.

I haven’t actually been inside yet, but I have been imagining what it looks like ever since Armie had told me about it. He did tell me we had to fix it up, so I’m a little worried as to what I’m about to walk into, but as I take my first steps inside, I’m relieved to feel a sturdy floor beneath my feet. At least that’s something, I guess.

“Are you ready?”

“No,” I chuckle nervously, but when Armie wraps his arms around my waist, before kissing the back of my neck, I feel a smile taking over my face. “Can I open my eyes?”

“You’re shaking,” he laughs, and yes, I am. I know I shouldn’t be this nervous, but I am. Being here in the house, our house, it makes it real. It will no longer be a fairy tale fantasy, but it will become real life, and I’m not sure if I’m ready. Well, I know I’m not ready. It’s my reaction I’m not sure about.

“Armie?”

“Mhm?”

“Can you promise me that there are no more secrets? No more lies?” I ask, and I really wish I wouldn’t be bringing this up right now. But when I open my eyes, and I turn around, I find him staring at me with a guilty look on his face. “There are?”

“No. I promise, okay? I just wish we could start over. Get it right this time.”

“Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have been where we are now, right?” I shrug. “We wouldn’t be…” Shit, where we are right now. In our house.

I look around, and Armie had made it sound like the place was about to fall apart, but sure, it it could do with some paint, and some new things, but this place is…

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect.”

I mean it. It is. I can already picture us in that kitchen, cooking up breakfast together, or curled up on the sofa, watching Netflix… I can see us living our life here, not just now, but in years to come. This isn’t a ‘we’re just starting out’-home, this is a ‘this is where we’re going to grow old together’-home, and up until now I had heard Armie say the words. But I hadn’t truly believed him. Deep down I was still expecting him to pack up his things as soon as he realized just how boring life is out here. How boring I am, really. But this place, it’s the real deal.

This is our home.

Our forever home.

“Do you think it will do?” Armie asks, looking a little nervous. “We can change anything you want, but…”

“I love you,” I blurt out, my cheeks burning, but I don’t even care anymore.

“I love you, too,” he laughs, pulling me close, before giving me a kiss. “I can’t wait to start our life together.”

“Even though…”

“Even though we probably still have the worst to come?” he asks, as though he can read my thoughts. “I don’t know what will happen when it comes out, but I will do whatever I can to keep you away from that world. Not because I’m ashamed of you, because I’m not. But I never meant to drag you into that part of my life. I swear.”

“I know.”

“You deserve better.”

“I do?” I laugh, because this is Armie Hammer we’re talking about. He thinks _I_ deserve better?

“Yes, Timmy, you do.”

“What? I deserve a quiet life, serving coffee?”

“Making rainbow drinks?” Armie laughs, before giving me another kiss. “I told you, you should try and do something with your stories.”

“I have to delete those, now that it’s about to come out about us. You know that, right?”

“Why?”

“Why?” I laugh, still not sure if he’s really that naïve sometimes, or if he’s just taking the piss. “Because imagine what they’ll write about you when they find out you’re dating a fan, who writes stories about you. They’ll think you have lost your mind.”

“So? Fuck ‘em. Your writing is good. I’m not going to let that go to waste. Besides, when I stop acting, we’ll need one of us to bring in the money, right?” he teases, a mischievous grin on his face. “I’m thinking ‘Timothée Chalamet, writer of the…”

“Please shut up.”

“Or what?”

“I can still go back to my parents, you know?” I ask, but he just raises an eyebrow, knowing fully well that I will never spend another night at my parents’ again. “Also, you won’t stop acting.”

“Maybe.”

“You have important stories to tell, remember?” I ask, his arms pulling me even closer. “How about we make a deal? You keep acting, and I will…”

“Write a book?”

“I was going to say, keep writing stories. I am not…”

“I may have set up a meeting for you,” he admits, flashing a sheepish grin. “There is this guy I’ve worked with, and he said he would love to sit down with you and talk about how he got the ball rolling.”

“What? He got his boyfriend to do his work for him?” I ask, but when I realize how ungrateful it sounds, I sigh. “Thanks. I’ll talk to him, okay? But I’m not promising anything. I’m not a writer.”

“True. You’re a storyteller.”

“Fuck off,” I laugh, but Armie just kisses me again. “So this is it then?”

“What?”

“The beginning? This is when it gets real? When we stop hiding out at the shop?”

“I think we’ve passed that stage a while ago,” he laughs. “You remember a little article that was written, don’t you?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I guess. It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

I can’t help but laugh at the sheer joy on his face, the glint in his eyes. Even with everything that’s going on, everything we still have ahead of us, he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He just seems happy, full of life. I hadn’t even realized, but he looks different from when we had first met. A part of him had seemed very Hollywood, maybe it had been his smile, or the way he carried himself. It had felt too perfect, too good to be true. But the man standing in front of me, holding me, he is not some Hollywood caricature, he is not a movie character, he is a real man, the good, the bad, okay, not so much the ugly. But it’s his flaws that have finally made him real to me, that in the end, I suppose, have made me believe in him. In our life together. That fairy tale ending he has been talking about.

I doubt our life together will be anything like a fairy tale, but it doesn’t matter, does it? Fairy tales aren’t all they are made out to be anyway. I think I’m okay with reality.

It’s really not so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I want to say the biggest thank you to everyone who gave this story a chance, especially those of you who have been here since the beginning, when I had no idea where this was going. It has been quite the ride, and I am so grateful for every single one of you who has been here to enjoy it with me.  
> I had so much fun writing this, and I probably could have written a hundred more chapters. But I decided to end it on a high, hopeful note instead of letting it drag on and on. I have a ton of ideas for these guys though, and in my mind I have their entire future mapped out, so who knows? I might come back to them one day, even if it's just a little update just to see where they are now. ;-)  
> Again, thank you so much, and maybe until next time!  
> Xx
> 
> Tumblr : https://samunderthelights.tumblr.com/


	34. A Coffee Shop Storyteller Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Timothée and Armie's first Christmas together. 🎄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!  
> Surprise!!!  
> Five months later, and we're back!!  
> Happy holidays!! 🎄  
> Xx

**Merry Christmas!**

I still can’t believe that just a few months ago, a certain mister Hammer walked into the shop just to meet me. That the idiot ordered a sickly sweet Unicorn Surprise, just because he thought that that would be the chance to strike up a conversation. That this idiot is now my boyfriend.

Armie Fucking Hammer.

I suppose I should be used to calling him my boyfriend by now, seeing as it’s been a few months since we moved into the house that he bought for us. But sometimes I still catch myself thinking about the guy I had first seen in the movies, the guy who had played a starring role in so many of my stories. Who still teases me, every time I grab my laptop to try and write a story.

But ever since that article came out about him, I’ve been too nervous to post a story as CoffeeShopStoryteller. Imagine if someone found out that I’m his boyfriend, and that I’m the guy who’s been writing those stories about him. Probably best to keep my new stories to myself for now, I figured.

Not that Armie would let me get away with hiding my writing from people though. He still wants me to do something with my writing, so he had dragged me out to meet a writer he had once worked with, and I had actually gotten some useful tips. But let’s be real, I’m not going to write any real stories, am I? I write about Armie sucking my dick in the storeroom, or on the couch, or the sex we had in the shower, or that one time he suggested we’d bring in toys.

Okay, so we’ve been keeping busy since we moved in together.

He did mention the writing again when we had Christmas dinner with my parents last night though. It had been a little awkward, having to explain to them why Armie is so convinced that I can write, or to explain to them why I can’t show them any of my writing. But they had been enthusiastic about the idea of me being a writer.

They had been less enthusiastic about the fact that Armie will have to leave for work in the new year again though. But I guess it’s what comes with dating a Hollywood actor. Although Armie shushes me, every time I call him that. He’s not a Hollwood actor, he says. He’s just a normal guy, who just so happens to act every now and again.

So a Hollywood actor.

I guess I’ve been lucky enough to have him by my side these last few months, so you won’t hear me complaining that he has to go back to work. Besides, it’s the first time he’s going back to work since he was outed as a cheat, so it’s him I’m worried about, not me. I’ll be fine, working at the shop, making new drinks.

“What are you doing?” I hear, and I quickly close my laptop. I look over my shoulder, only to find Armie standing in the doorway, a knowing grin on his face. “Were you writing?”

“No!”

“Timmy! You’re smashing those keys so hard, I could hear you upstairs,” he laughs. “Anything I can read?”

“No,” I nervously chuckle, not ready to tell him about the story I’ve been working on for a few weeks now. Something that might actually be a real story? Did I just admit that? I’m not telling Armie though. He’ll never let me hear the end of it! “Did I wake you up?”

“It’s fine.” He shrugs. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

And he wonders why I never get any writing done.

* * *

Armie offers me a cigarette, but I’m still a little out of breath, so I shake my head, my heart still beating out of my chest. Seriously, this guy…

“You’re staring,” he chuckles, as he lights up his cigarette. “Stop!” he laughs self-consciously, but I can’t stop. The way his skin seems to be glowing, that faraway I’ve-just-had-the-best-fuck-of-my-life kind of look in his eyes, which I’ve come to recognize all too well… I wish I could capture it somehow.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He smiles, his empty hand ever so gently caressing my thigh. “Thank you, for giving me another chance.”

“Armie…”

“No, Timmy. I mean it. I know I didn’t deserve it, after what I did to you.”

He probably didn’t, but here we are. Would I have been able to forgive myself if I had told him to go fuck himself? Would I have been able to cope with the what-ifs? The missed chances? Imagine having missed out on all this, just because he messed up. Because we both messed up.

“It’s done,” I say, “Karma got you for that, so…” I shrug, still cringing when I think back to the article that had come out about him cheating on his girlfriend.

“Are your friends still messaging you about it?”

“I left the group a while ago,” I admit. “They kept sharing that picture we took at the pancake place, you know, the one with my friends? They kept pointing out that we met, so…”

“I’m so sorry,” he sighs, and I guess I was sorry too. The fan group had been my place to go to for so long, but it had slowly been replaced by real life. I have Armie, my family, Harley and Julia. At least I can talk to them about Armie without having to be scared that it’s going to end up all over the internet.

“It was time to move on.”

I know that he can tell that I did not choose to move on, but that I had to move on because of the article. But he lets me get away with it, as he flashes a loving smile, his hand still lingering on my thigh.

* * *

“It’s beautiful.”

I can’t help but smile, as Armie looks around him, a look of awe on his face as though it’s his first time seeing the snow.

“It is,” I agree, before leading him into the park, where it’s still quiet. Most people probably having breakfast with their families.

“I was wondering…”

Oh god, we’ve been here before, haven’t we?

“When the movie comes out,” he begins, hesitating before continuing. “When we have the premiere…”

“Yes?”

“Will you go with me?” he asks.

I’m not going to lie, I had been expecting this to come up ever since he had first brought it up when he had told me about Finn’s movie. But when he had told me all about the promotion schedule, without inviting me to come along, I figured he assumed I wasn’t ready to be known to the world as the guy he cheated on his girlfriend with.

“If it’s too soon…”

“You know what they’re saying about me, right?”

“I know,” he sighs, as we sit down on the snow-covered bench. “And I am so sorry. I was the one who cheated, not you. If it gets brought up, I’ll…”

“Don’t you think I should meet your parents first? Before we go public with this?” I suggest, but I can see the hurt look on his face, and I immediately regret bringing it up. Because after the article had come out, he had had no choice but to tell his very conservative parents about me. They hadn’t spoken to him for weeks, and they had refused to meet me. But it doesn’t feel right, going public without even having met his family.

Not that I want to meet his parents though. They sound awful.

“You know they don’t want to meet you. They refuse to accept that I’m with you. I didn’t even get invited to their annual Christmas party,” he says, squeezing my hand tighter. “But if you don’t want to be at the premiere, that’s fine. I know that world isn’t for you.”

“It’s not for you either, is it?” I say, nudging him in the arm, a small smile forming on his face. “But if you are willing to put yourself through the hell of it all… then I suppose I can put myself out there for one night.”

“Yeah?” he asks, the smile on his face growing bigger. “You’ll be my date?”

“I should hope so!”

* * *

When we get home, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Just seeing the large Christmas tree we decorated the other week, all the Christmas decorations, a mix of the ones Armie brought, and new ones we bought together, it just makes me feel like we really _are_ getting that fairy tale ending Armie had described all those months ago.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all too aware of what we’re about to face once Armie leaves our little bubble again, but for now we get to live in our little Winter Wonderland. We get to enjoy the Christmas cookies mum made for us, we get to have the leftovers from last night’s dinner for lunch, and tonight we’ll have our first Christmas dinner together. At our own home.

Our own home.

We actually made it work.

Can you believe that, when we had stood here, arguing… Scrap that. When I had accused Armie of all sorts, and I had freaked out because things had moved too fast, and when… well, the list goes on. Basically, when I had fucked up. Can you believe that when I had fucked it up, and Armie had left town, that we would find our way back to each other, only to end up here?

Happy in this quiet life that Armie had once spoken of. Working at the coffee shop together? Because yes, Armie has actually been working there with me. Not that he’s needed there, or that my parents actually gave him a job. But he’s been there every day, wanting to learn everything there is to know. Coming up with ridiculous new drinks, most of them even sicklier sweet than the Unicorn Surprise.

At first people would freak out a little when they saw him at the shop, and fans would come to get a drink, just because he was the one making it for them. But after a few weeks the buzz had died down, and things had gone back to their usual routine.

As far as we can call it a usual routine. It’s not like I was used to having Armie there with me 24/7, was I? But we work together surprisingly well. So well, that my parents are already talking about retiring and leaving the shop in our hands. But it’s a little early for that.

Probably best to try and get through this first year together first.

“I got you a little something,” Armie whispers into my ear, as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.

“I know,” I laugh, pointing at the framed artwork he had given me last night when we had all exchanged gifts at my parents’ house.

“Something else,” he says, squeezing me tighter against him, before kissing my neck. His kisses still making me weak at the knees.

The son of a bitch knows it. I can tell by that mischievous grin on his face, as he lets go of me, before pulling a small box from out of the pocket of his coat.

It’s a small box, and although I’m sure he wouldn’t propose to me right now - not after what happened when he tried to surprise me by buying a house – seeing the box still gives me the shivers. Because what if he _is_ doing it again?

Surely he knows what my answer would be?

It would be no, by the way.

Don’t get me wrong, I love him, but it’s too soon. Maybe in another year… or five.

“It’s not a ring,” he laughs, nudging me in the arm, a knowing grin on his face. “Don’t worry, when I propose to you, it’ll be…”

“When?” I notice. “Not if?”

“Just open it.” He rolls his eyes, shaking his head, still smiling to himself.

I open the box, and when I see the cufflinks in the shape of a typewriter, I can’t help but laugh. Because this is so typical of Armie. It’s very sweet, and thoughtful, and I love how happy he looks, but who the hell wears cufflinks? I don’t!

They are cute though, I’ll give him that.

“There’s a suit that goes with them,” he explains. “For the premiere.”

“Wait, you arranged this, when you didn’t even know if I was going to agree to go with you?”

“If you had said no, at least you’d have new cufflinks.” He shrugs, but I can tell that he knew that I was going to say yes. He probably knew it before I did.

Also, new cufflinks? What, to replace the dozens of ones I already had? Seriously, when does he think I have ever worn cufflinks? Or a suit for that matter.

“Do you like them?”

“I love them,” I laugh, staring down at the damned things. “Thank you.”

* * *

“Sorry about that,” I mumble, as Armie comes out of the kitchen after having thrown out our Christmas dinner.

Probably best to leave the cooking to Armie from now on.

“It’s fine,” he laughs, “It was ehm…”

“Don’t,” I grumble, because really, there is no excuse for what that was. Embarrassing, that’s what it was. Inedible.

He hands me a mug of hot chocolate, the whipped cream and marshmallows nearly spilling over the side, and I’m about to dive right in, but when I see which mug he has given me, I cringe.

“Really?”

“What? I like them!” he laughs, staring down at his own mug, the one that matches mine.

Mom thought it would be funny to give us both a mug with a picture of each other’s face on it, and if the picture wasn’t embarrassing enough, it was in the shape of a heart, with little kisses printed onto it.

He takes one of the marshmallows from his own mug, before feeding it to me, a happy smile on his face. He then presses a sugary kiss to my lips, before making himself comfortable against my side.

“I’ve never done this, you know?”

“What?”

Had to miss out on Christmas dinner because someone fucked it up? Drank hot chocolate from the most cringeworthy mug you can imagine? Missed out on Christmas with your family? All of the above?

“Spent Christmas with someone, not like this,” he sighs. “When I was with…”

Don’t say her name. Please.

“My ex.”

Good.

“She went to see her family, and I went to see mine. And I don’t think I’ve ever spent another Christmas with someone.”

“Neither have I,” I admit.

“No? None of your hook-ups…”

I elbow him, almost making him spill his drink, but he just smiles, before settling back into my side. He quietly drinks his drink, not even noticing that I’m watching him. Wondering how this idiot in his Christmas pyjamas, who has whipped cream all over his face, is the same guy that I had been a fan of. How had I ever thought that this guy was an arrogant asshole who was just trying to play me?

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“You’re staring.”

Okay, so maybe he did notice.

“How can I resist?” I tease, as he looks up at me, a self-conscious smile on his face. “When you look like that…?”

He sets his drink down, before taking mine away from me, which to be fair, I probably deserve. He then wrestles me down onto my back, before pinning me down, by now a grin on his face.

I can’t take him seriously though, not in those ridiculous snowman pyjamas, but when he sees me biting my lip, trying my best not to laugh at him, he presses his sticky sweet lips against my mouth. And for a moment, I feel like I am back at the shop again, back when he had first kissed me.

But when I open my eyes, I’m back in our home again. Back in our own Winter Wonderland, our fairy tale bubble. Armie staring down at me, the biggest, most loving smile on his face.

“Merry Christmas, Timmy.”

“Merry Christmas, Armie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell, this isn't just a little Christmas standalone, this is also the set-up to the sequel.  
> I started writing Coffee Shop Storyteller in lockdown, and seeing as we're back in lockdown, it seems like the perfect time to now start working on the follow-up!  
> The sequel won't be posted as new chapters to this story, but as a new story. Which means that if you have subscribed to this story, you will not get a notification when I start posting the follow-up story. I will post a link to it on my Tumblr when I start posting it, so if you want to stay updated, you can follow me on Tumblr, or you can subscribe to my stories here on AO3. Or just keep an eye out for my name! Whatever works for you (if you are interested in the sequel).  
> Anywho, it's been fun to get back into this little Coffee Shop Storyteller world again, and hopefully some of you have enjoyed reading the Christmas update.  
> Thank you!!  
> Xx
> 
>  **Update 22 January 2021:** This Christmas standalone was meant as a set-up to the sequel, but due to circumstances I have decided to no longer continue the sequel. So this Christmas standalone is now the final chapter to Coffee Shop Storyteller.
> 
> https://samunderthelights.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> Now posting the sequel to Coffee Shop Storyteller, called [Rainbow Cakes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476633/chapters/69776682)


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